On the Origin of Species
by poorpiratelass
Summary: After Elijah's betrayal, another Original comes to Mystic Falls to kill the hybrid, and discovers that history is about to repeat itself. Set post season 2 finale; goes AU after that. Forwood.
1. Prologue

On the Origin of Species

Rating: M (for later chapters)

Disclaimer: I am not associated with anything _Vampire Diaries_, and I make no profit off this fan fiction. Also, I stole the title from Charles Darwin. Don't sue, please… I've got nothing but some pocket change and a car that won't start.

Summary: After Elijah's betrayal, another Original comes to Mystic Falls to kill the hybrid, and discovers that history is about to repeat itself. Set post season 2 finale. Forwood first and foremost, but I love all the other characters and their relationships too much not to play with those too… and those could end up going anywhere.

AN: Just so you all know, I should not be posting this story. I have, like, five unfinished fics up here that literally have not been updated in months, but I couldn't resist. I simply _can't_ wait until season 3 for more epic Forwood goodness, which means I have to compensate by writing this. ;)

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><p>Prologue:<p>

_Austria, 1492…_

Elijah would have been breathing heavily if it was still within his ability to breathe. For weeks, he had been running across Europe, resting hours at a time in caves and under trees, sticking to the forests and avoiding the towns and settlements the best he could. Finally, in the middle of the night, at the foot of the dark freezing mountains of western Austria, he allowed himself to remember what it felt like to be civilized.

It was an inn, nestled at the edge of the wilderness, dark and leaning and rundown, with tall grasses clutching at its corners. Elijah stood in the muddy road, staring at it. His velvet jacket was in tatters, his long brown curls were matted with rain, and his riding boots were caked in muck. He wished to fall down at the door. Instead, he limped up the front steps of the waiting inn, his muscles aching, his throat dry, and every bone in his body craving blood. He stood at the door and knocked loudly, hoping the innkeeper would hurry.

Some long cold minutes passed, and then the door creaked open. The woman on the other side of the threshold gasped and stumbled back a step, her hand going to her chest. A cold gust of wind whipped across the land, and made her candle flicker.

Elijah quickly composed himself and inclined his head, trying for gentlemanly despite his wild appearance. "I beg your pardon, Miss. I did not intend to alarm you, only to engage a bed for the evening."

The woman sighed, smiling. "Of course, my lord. Come inside."

He tried not to breathe in relief as the shield between him and the warm interior of the inn fell away. Finally, he stepped inside. The front room was dim and unremarkable, the paint peeling on the walls, and it was lit only by a dying fire on the other side of the room. Elijah spent little time taking in his surroundings, his eyes following the innkeeper instead. She was young, he noted. Her hair was blonde and spun into a long braid down her back. She was wearing her nightclothes, barely concealed under a heavy, rug-like wrap. She stepped behind a tall desk in the corner by the door. Elijah approached the desk, watching hungrily as she reached for a set of keys.

She turned and smiled. "I shall give you the best of our available rooms," she promised. "But first, there is the consideration of payment…"

He leaned over the desk, eyes boring into hers. She smelled like warm, mouth-watering, coppery blood, and his eyes fought to turn dark. "There will be no payment," he said slowly. "You will give me my room and anything else I ask, all complimentary."

The woman's eyes went dull. "There will be no payment," she repeated him, her tone flat. "I will give you your room and anything else you ask, all complimentary."

He stepped back, breaking their eye contact. The woman blinked. "Shall I take you to your room?" she asked.

"I'm awfully hungry," he drawled.

"Yes sir. I shall find something for you in the kitchen."

She turned, but Elijah caught her waist. "You will do just fine."

He sank his teeth into her neck and bit down hard, pressing his hand over her mouth to smother her scream. Her warm blood flooded his mouth as he sucked on the open wound; the blood coursed down his throat and warmed him from the inside out.

His hunger satisfied, he released her, only to snatch her wrists and yank her against his chest. His eyes bored into hers again. "You will not remember this," he told her. "You will patch the wound, and tell everyone it was the dog."

"I will not remember this," she agreed. "I will patch the wound and tell everyone it was the dog."

Elijah nodded, a small smile gracing his face. He wiped at his mouth with his handkerchief. "My room?" he inquired.

The woman blinked. She shook her head. "Your room."

Elijah followed her up a narrow staircase and down a long, dim, cheerless hall. She stopped at one of the many doors and unlocked it, swinging it wide open. Elijah stepped inside and took stock of his surroundings. The small sitting room was dark and depressing, made more so by the heavy maroon curtain that covered the lone window. There was an unlit fireplace to his right, and a door to the left that lead into the bedchamber. In the center of the room was a rough wooden table, and by the fireplace were a couple of worn, stained armchairs. The woman set about building a fire in the hearth. A boy, wearing boots and a jacket over his nightclothes, scurried in with a bottle of something and a glass. He left it on the table and backed out the door.

When the fire was roaring, the woman left too. Elijah removed the cap from the bottle and sniffed the contents. Th liquor was of a poor quality, but at the moment he didn't care. He poured some into the glass and took a drink

He heard a noise from the other room. Elijah sighed, inspecting the liquid in the glass. "Whoever you are," he announced. "You had best come out. I can hear your heart beating, and I am fairly certain I can kill you."

There was a pause. Then he heard footsteps, light and soft on the warped wooden floor, padding quietly behind him. Elijah turned to see who had stepped out of his bedchamber.

It was a woman, with long dark hair and large green eyes; her skin brown like an egg. She looked about his age, although he knew her to be two years younger. Not that it mattered. At his age, two years was a drop in the bucket.

"Sybil," he greeted her, his eyebrow arched with surprise.

Sybil drew her lips into a leering sort of smile. "Elijah," she drawled through a heavy, eastern European accent. She crossed from the doorway and sauntered around the table, graceful and animal-like. Elijah watched her every move with suspicion, his face arranged carefully in a calm mask. She wandered to the window as he took another sip from his glass, and ran her hand over the dirty curtain.

"Interesting choice of wardrobe," he commented dryly. "I hope you thanked the stable boy for the loan."

She smirked, her hands running over the simple, baggy man's shirt. She wore pants too, tucked into a huntsman's boots. He watched her poke along the room, eyes darting from corner to corner. "Careful casting stones," she returned lightly. "You're no sight for sore eyes either."

Elijah made no comment. He sipped the drink again. She wandered to the fireplace and he tilted his head. "How did you find me?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Sybil shrugged, inspecting the mantel for dust. "I caught your scent."

"How did you know where to start sniffing?"

"Nicklaus's witch owed me a favor."

Elijah snorted. "How fortunate for you," he said darkly.

"Do you really think so?" she asked, meeting his eyes and giving him another smirk. "I rather thought it a shame. Surely he is killing her by now."

Silence fell. Elijah never took his eyes off her as she ambled all over the room, inspecting everything in her path; like a dog in an unfamiliar place. Really, though, that was exactly what she was, and that was also why he watched her so carefully, determined she would not catch him off guard. He noted her hair, loose and mussed and tangled, bits of leaves caught in the mess. Adding this to her stolen clothes, Elijah made the connection. "Seeing as you've taken the trouble to return to your human form," he murmured. "I gather you're not here to kill me."

"No," Sybil agreed brightly. "Not this time."

She finished her ramble about the room and sank slowly into the chair by the fire. Elijah watched her, still on edge and suspicious, but maintaining a composed expression. He took another sip from his drink. "Why are you here?" he asked.

"Call it a mission of peace."

Elijah snorted again. "Peace. How very… unlikely."

"Fine then," she returned apathetically. "Call it parley. I don't really care."

"I won't work with you, you know."

"Nor would I work with you. You smell _awful_."

Elijah merely arched his eyebrow again, mildly amused. She sniffed at the air and snorted, following up with a sneeze he was certain she'd faked. "In fact, I seem to be allergic to you," she mocked him, with a ghost of a smile on her lips.

He lifted his glass in her direction, straight-faced. "God bless you."

Silence again. She watched him with the same suspicion and relentlessness that he watched her. "You know we found the doppelganger," he spoke. It was not a question.

"Yes," she replied. "And I also know you lost her. Excellent work."

"I hardly lost her on purpose."

"I doubt Nicklaus will see it that way."

Elijah studied his drink, affecting a lack of interest in what she had to say. Sybil was undeterred. "That is why you are here, no?" she pressed. "You are hiding from your brother?"

He drank from the glass again. "You are afraid he will not believe it was an accident?" she asked when he failed to respond. "Or that he will not care?"

Again, he made no answer. Heavy silence enveloped the room, weighing down on his shoulders. Her voice cut through the stillness with shocking resonance. "You believe he'll kill you," Sybil announced.

"If this is the part where you offer me your assistance in exchange for something I undoubtedly do not want to give, save your breath," Elijah ground out behind clenched teeth. "The answer is no."

Sybil shook her head, her voice lilting with amusement. "Vampires," she clucked her tongue. "Always so unwilling to compromise. It will be the death of you."

Elijah slammed his glass down on the table and whirled in her direction. Sybil tensed in her chair, her green eyes flashing gold. "And why would I agree to compromise with the creatures who slaughtered my entire family?" he demanded.

Sybil swallowed hard, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, they'd returned to their normal green. Slowly, the tension left her shoulders. "Do you truly still believe _we_ killed your family?" she asked.

Elijah laughed – one loud, short, bitter laugh. "The bodies we _did_ recover had bite marks," he returned hotly. "What else could have bitten my father? My eldest brothers and sister?"

He glared at her, daring her to answer. She had enough shame to lower her eyes to the floor. "There's only one thing in this world that could have bitten and killed them," Elijah spat. "A member of your family."

Sybil raised her head defiantly, the gold flashing in her eyes again. "That I will admit," she retorted. "We _did_ kill them. I suppose we must have thought they deserved it, after they murdered most of us."

Elijah lunged forward with a loud hiss, his eyes darkening and the veins poking through the skin on his face. Sybil leapt out of her chair with a violent, inhuman growl, her eyes turning gold again, and hunched her shoulders in preparation to pounce. He stopped short, just barely fighting the urge to throw himself at the werewolf and tear out her heart.

"Your parents attacked us!" Elijah snarled.

"Your father killed their eldest son!"

"He murdered my mother!"

"_Your_ _father_ killed your mother!"

"That is _not true_!"

Elijah half lunged for her, his eyes bright red and his fangs erupting out of his gums. She started forward, snarling and baring her canines. Elijah managed to stop himself and stood still, tense in his legs and shoulders. He glowered at her. Sybil didn't pounce. She simply paced in front of the fire, every muscle taut and ready to propel her towards him. He could hear her growling low in her chest, and he watched her, another hiss building in the back of his throat. Her eyes never left him.

It seemed a futile exercise and after awhile, Elijah backed away, taking a deep breath and squeezing his eyes shut. His body relaxed. Slowly, he opened his eyes. By now, Sybil had regained control of herself as well; her eyes were no longer gold, her pacing was at an end.

"I would really like to kill you," he announced mildly.

Sybil's smirk was playful, but her eyes were pained. "Try."

He didn't. "Why are you here?" he asked again, reaching for his drink.

"You tried to break the curse and failed," she said, dodging the question a second time. "Katarina Petrova is a vampire. How does it feel to be outsmarted by a human?"

He tensed again, annoyed. He couldn't deny the truth in the statement. "Not good," he admitted, his clench on the glass tightening.

"I'd supposed not. It must be difficult to accept – as difficult as accepting that your brother is a monster."

"Nicklaus is no monster."

"Of course he is."

"Then we are _all_ monsters."

He was adamant. His muscles had tensed up again because of her accusations. Sybil took a step closer to him, undeterred. "If your brother is no worse than you or I," she whispered. "Then why have you run away from him?"

The question hung in the middle of the room, thickening the air, weighing on Elijah's shoulders. He stared at her and she stared back. "For the third time," he asked through his clenched teeth. "Why are you here?"

"If you believe your brother would kill you," Sybil pressed. "Then surely he is capable of killing the rest of your family."

"I warn you," Elijah said too slowly. "Do not pursue this subject."

"He has spun you a story about my family and yours," Sybil kept going. "A story you believe in spite of all evidence to the contrary. My family did not kill yours. Your family killed mine."

He knew her accusations were half true, knew his family had wiped out all of hers, but he couldn't listen to the insult against his brother, no matter how afraid of Klaus he really was. Elijah glared at the tabletop, flexing the fingers in his free hand.

"I understand," she told him.

_Bang!_

He slammed his fist down on the table. She didn't flinch, or blink, or even look surprised. Elijah breathed deep through his nose, clenching his fingers into fists and squeezing his eyes shut. Slowly, he forced down the rage. He made himself look at her.

His voice was calm and smooth, with only a slight tightness to suggest his fury. "How dare you say that to me?"

Sybil stared straight into his eyes. "Because I do understand," she insisted. "I understand why you cling to him. You are the last ones."

He narrowed his eyes, taking a predatory step in her direction. She didn't move. She didn't tense. She kept staring, her eyes wide and sincere. The sincerity further infuriated him.

"I'm the last one too," she said.

She shouldn't have tried to point out what they had in common. Elijah had no interest in finding a common ground. He had run from his brother – in that, she spoke the truth. He knew, deep down, what Klaus was capable of, but he refused to trust a werewolf – even if that werewolf was Sybil. Instead, he'd chosen to trust no one at all.

"So this is why you've come?" he whispered dangerously. "To accuse my brother of murdering our family?"

Sybil was backing away now, though her eyes were hard as she held his murderous stare. "I've come in the interest of the truth," she said, her tones low and too even. "I've come in the interest of a new beginning."

"You've come to the wrong place," he hissed.

Elijah had lunged at her before the last syllable left his lips. Sybil dodged him, darting to the side at an inhuman speed, rolling on the floor and rising up on her haunches, her hackles up and a growl low in her throat. Elijah spun, and lunged again. The wolf woman ducked another time, leaping to the opposite end of the room. There, she froze.

He froze too, just behind the table, mesmerized by the way she'd simply stopped and stared at him. She squeezed her eyes shut and he watched her, still fascinated, as she fought for control. Elijah, for his part, stayed hunched and ready to pounce, his eyes still red and his fangs bared. But Sybil forced her urges below the surface and opened her eyes. Her shoulders slackened. She stood up straight and heaved a heavy sigh. "I have not come here to fight you," she announced.

Elijah cocked his head to the side. "I will _not_ fight you," she went on sternly. "I only wanted to talk. I only wanted to mend what was broken, so very long ago. I am… I am _so_ tired, Elijah."

Despite everything, Elijah felt his muscles relaxing. He reluctantly straightened up and closed his eyes, repressing the bloodlust. Sybil shook her head and gave him a sad, defeated look. "You want to know why I came?" she asked.

"Yes," he breathed.

"Nicklaus is dangerous, Elijah, and deep down, you know it," Sybil said evenly, still looking at his eyes. "Your family knew it too. That is why they had to disappear."

Her implications set him on edge again. He could not – no, he did not _want_ to believe his brother could have killed the rest of their family.

"My family is dead," she reminded him, taking a step towards him. "I have lost them all to our fathers' war, except for the ones I lost to Nicklaus's obsession with the curse. I have lost so much… and I could not bear to lose in vain. After what has happened in England, I thought you'd be rethinking your alliances. So I came to reason with you – I came to _plead_ with you."

Elijah stared at her, his eyebrows creasing in the middle. "_Please,_ Elijah," she entreated him, her eyes wide and sincere and never wavering from his own. "Please do not help your brother anymore. Switch sides now, before it is too late. I can _help_ you."

Her eyes made him uncomfortable. He was not used to seeing such sincere desperation in the eyes of an Original. It was unsettling. It was pathetic. It made him want to kill her, and yet in the same moment, shake her hand in allegiance. He swallowed, tearing his eyes from hers, ignoring the feel of her gaze on him as he returned to the table and took up his drink again. He threw back the last gulp and then poured another glass.

"You need to leave," he said, eyes on the drink. "Before I change my mind about not killing you."

Still, he felt her eyes boring into the side of his face. Elijah ignored her. Eventually, after too many long, painful moments, she took a deep breath and lowered her gaze to the floor. "I will go," she murmured.

He heard her step as she crossed the room, headed for the door. "Good luck with your brother," she said over her shoulder, the wry lilt returning to her voice. "Should you see him before I do."

Elijah recognized a threat when he heard one. He whirled again, but the doorway was empty. Mere seconds later, he heard the howl of a wolf outside his window.

He crossed to the window and pulled back the curtain. In the sliver of light from his room, he saw a pile of men's clothing laying abandoned in the yard.


	2. Living Dead Girl

On the Origin of Species

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I am not associated with anything _Vampire Diaries_, and I make no profit off this fan fiction. Also, I stole the title from Charles Darwin. Don't sue, please… I've got nothing but some pocket change and a car that won't start.

Summary: After Elijah's betrayal, another Original comes to Mystic Falls to kill the hybrid, and discovers that history is about to repeat itself. Set post season 2 finale. Forwood first and foremost, but I love all the other characters and their relationships too much not to play with those too… and those could end up going anywhere.

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><p>Chapter 1: Living Dead Girl<p>

Tyler Lockwood drove the old beat up navy Jeep too fast through the undergrowth on his family's old property, not minding the shakes or bumps. The green of the trees whirled past the windows, the sun filtering in through the branches and leaving white spots on the ground. The whole truck was vibrating and making sickening sounds, its tires eating up leaves and twigs and taking out small bushes. Tyler ignored the noises and the discomfort and pressed through the woods, determined to keep going until the truck stopped fitting between the trees.

He knew that at that moment in the Mystic Falls cemetery, there was a private funeral going on for Jenna Sommers and John Gilbert, and he wondered if maybe he should be there.

He didn't know either of them, but he did know Elena and Jeremy. There had never been a real friendship between him and Elena, but they had belonged to the same clique, and once upon a time, she'd dated his best friend. True, Elena no longer dated Matt Donovan, and quite frankly, Tyler no longer believed Matt was his best friend. Still, there was history, and there was also Jeremy, who sometimes had been his friend – a real friend, not just some guy who was there, in the background, because their families were on the council and they all played on the same sports team.

Caroline had asked him if he wanted to go, but he'd turned her down because he felt awkward just thinking about the funeral. He doubted he'd be welcomed there. Everyone thought he was a traitor – everyone except Caroline – and even though it wasn't really fair, even though they had never accepted him into their little supernatural clique or told him anything he needed to know or even apologized for killing his uncle, he didn't entirely blame them for hating him. More importantly, he wasn't sure he even cared.

He had his own friend to bury.

Finally, Tyler stopped the truck with a fierce jolt, and shut down the protesting engine. The trees were too thick to keep going now, so Tyler leapt down from the cab and headed around the back, where he popped open the rear door.

Inside was a long blanketed bundle, woolly and blue, lying on the floor of the Jeep. He stared for a moment, hating the ease with which he looked at the bundle, knowing he was already too used to death and bodies and cover-ups.

While Jenna and John had gotten their private funeral in the cemetery, Damon and Stefan Salvatore had been content to torch the other two bodies in the clearing where the sacrifice had taken place. The witch girl Tyler hadn't cared about, even though he knew it was wrong. They could light her up and ditch the ashes and it wouldn't matter to him in the slightest, but he wasn't letting them disrespect Jules like that.

Jules hadn't been the best friend in the world, but for a while there, she'd been his only friend. She'd taken him under her wing, told him all the things no one else would, and promised to be there for him even though she didn't have to be. Most importantly, she'd tried to teach him about being a werewolf.

Werewolf. Tyler snorted. It still felt weird calling himself that. He felt like he was trapped in a horror movie – a really bad, really old, black-and-white train wreck of a horror movie. Was there anything more ridiculous than being a werewolf?

Other than being a vampire, that is.

Tyler hefted the bundle onto his shoulder and carried Jules a few more feet into the woods. Once he had laid her to rest, he would erect some kind of wooden cross or something. Just so he'd know she was there – so other people would pass this spot and know it wasn't just another patch of dirt.

The sun barely reached through the trees here, leaving him little light. But everything around him was green, and he could hear birds chirping and smell the earth – smell the grass and the mud and the decaying logs of fallen trees. His nose was so much stronger now than it had been before – he picked up every nuance of the mud and the grass and the worms underneath… she'd like it here, he told himself. Jules liked the woods.

He lay the bundle down as gently as he could. Then he started to dig.

Six feet deep sounded like a lot, but with superhuman werewolf strength, the digging went fast. There were perks to this whole supernatural creature thing. Of course, the perk to staying human was never needing to dig a grave in the first place.

At least, he _thought_ he wouldn't have needed to dig a grave, but what did he really know? He'd done some pretty shady things in his life, even before he started turning into a wolf every month.

Once the hole was deep enough, Tyler lifted Jules' body off the ground and lowered it as gently as possible into the grave. When the bundle hit the bottom with a loud thump, he winced. "Sorry," he whispered uselessly. It wasn't like she could hear him anymore. All his apologies came too late.

Tyler stood at the grave a moment, staring at Jules's body, clenching and unclenching his fists. He tried to think of something to say. Weren't people supposed to say things at funerals? All kinds of people had said all kinds of things about Richard Lockwood when he'd been buried – things that Tyler had mostly tuned out. They were all lies anyway.

He didn't know how to talk to graves. He couldn't think of a single thing to say. Taking a deep breath, Tyler looked up at the sky, and then back down at the hole.

"Goodbye Jules," he said quietly. "You were a serious pain in my ass, but… I owe you a lot."

Tyler paused, waiting for nothing. The woods were silent, save the caw of a crow and a buzzing cicada in a nearby bush.

"I'm going to miss you," he admitted.

The woods still wouldn't talk to him, and it was far too late for Jules to say anything now. Tyler picked up the shovel again.

He dropped the first shovelful of dirt into the hole and watched it scatter across Jules's body. Something heavy settled in his chest. He swallowed, scooping up a second shovelful of dirt and tossing it into the hole.

No one could have been more surprised than Tyler when the tears began to fall.

* * *

><p>An entire week had passed since the night of the sacrifice ritual. It had been an entire week since Elena Gilbert's aunt and father had died, an entire week since Elijah had betrayed them, and an entire week since Tyler Lockwood had come back to town and taken a bite out of Damon Salvatore. It was also an entire week since Matt Donovan had dumped Caroline Forbes and told her that her mother knew what she was and might want to kill her.<p>

Damon was still dying, and Stefan was out tracking down a cure for his big brother, and Caroline's mother had shot Jeremy Gilbert. It had been an hour since Alaric Saltzman had taken him up in his arms and followed Bonnie Bennett out the door of the Mystic Grille to do some sort of spell. A lot of shit had just hit the fan, and Caroline knew the last place she should be was sitting in her living room, talking to her mother.

"I don't know how to do this," Liz Forbes was saying. "I just… my _entire_ life…"

"I know," Caroline interrupted her.

Silence. She could hear the clock over the mantel ticking, too loud, ringing in her ears the way it did when she'd first been turned, and a dropped pencil sounded like a gunshot. She should be somewhere else, doing something, helping someone… Stefan was meeting with _Klaus_ of all people, Damon was _dying_, and poor Bonnie and Jeremy and Alaric… poor _Elena_…

Caroline knew she should be somewhere else. But she had to talk this out with her mother. Right now, this was where Caroline wanted to be.

It still hurt to watch her mother hunched over in the beige armchair across from her, rubbing her temples and staring at the glass topped coffee table. The hug in the Grille had been the best hug Caroline's mother had ever given her. But that didn't mean she hadn't felt the hesitation and the tears on her shoulder, as her mother tried to rise above her instinct to either run from or stake the creature in her arms. Now, her mother couldn't look at her, could only keep rubbing her head and staring at the table.

"Jeremy's alive," Liz said dully.

Caroline nodded. "Bonnie did some sort of spell. She wouldn't give me the details."

She remembered all too well the horror in her gut as she watched Elena's little brother – the one last real family member the poor girl had – lay on the floor with a gaping hole in his chest, refusing to take her blood, slipping out of consciousness… dying, right there, on the floor of the Mystic Grille.

It was too cruel, only one week after Elena had lost her aunt and her biological father, and to lose Jeremy on top of all that was asking for too much. Caroline wanted to believe that whatever universal power Bonnie had invoked had seen that, and that's why it brought Jeremy back.

Somehow, even then, she knew that wasn't the case at all.

"Bonnie Bennett is a witch," Liz repeated, tone still flat.

"Yes," Caroline agreed quietly.

"And my daughter is a vampire," Liz murmured. "And I've decided to be ok with that."

Caroline blinked; her eyes suddenly stinging with fresh tears. "Mom…"

"I love you, so much," Liz said suddenly, her tone fierce as she finally lifted her watery brown eyes from the table and leveled them straight into Caroline's green ones. Caroline blinked, feeling a swelling in her throat as the tears in her eyes threatened to spill over.

"I love you too," she whispered.

"Even if it's wrong," Liz said, shaking her head, fighting tears of her own. "I can't hurt you, Caroline. I've been trying for weeks now, to do the right thing, and I can't. I can't hurt you. You're my baby."

Silence. That stupid clock was ticking again, echoing in Caroline's ears. "What do we do now?" Liz asked.

Caroline blinked, looking up at her mother with surprise and confusion. "What do you mean?"

This was her mother. Vampire or not, Caroline was still her daughter. Shouldn't Liz be the one trying to come up with some answers?

"My deputies know about the Salvatores," Liz explained.

Caroline stared at her mother. "Just Stefan and Damon?" she asked.

Liz nodded. "I didn't tell them about you." She took a deep breath and blinked furiously. "I couldn't."

It was a comfort to hear that. Right now, more than anything else, Caroline needed to have some reinforcement that her mother loved her. She took a deep breath. "What about Bonnie and Elena…?"

"Elena's human," Liz interrupted. "I told my deputies that she and Jeremy sympathized with the Salvatores, but we would never hurt them… her."

Liz sucked in a breath, correcting her mistake, looking pained at the memory of definitely hurting Jeremy. Caroline hated watching her mother cry, but she had to keep asking questions. "And Bonnie?"

There was a long silence. "Mom, no," Caroline gasped.

"Everyone knows about the Bennetts," Liz returned. "Sheila Bennett never hid who she was. People have been calling her a witch since she was young. The founding families…"

"So everyone already suspects that Bonnie is a witch?" Caroline exclaimed.

Liz didn't answer right away. After a while, she nodded, pressing her lips firmly together.

"Did you tell them…?"

Liz shook her head. "I… Sheila was always very helpful to the council, and very protective of her granddaughter. I owed her a lot, and… I just couldn't…"

"So all the 'Bonnie is a witch' theories are… just theories? No one knows for sure?"

Liz shook her head in agreement. Caroline took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to think. Elena was safe; Bonnie was safe… for now at least. Damon and Stefan… well, they were already in danger, even before her mother and the deputies decided to take them out. Jeremy was alive… Alaric was alive…

"What about Tyler?" Caroline asked. "Does anyone know about Tyler?"

Liz shook her head. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Not even the mayor?"

Again, Caroline watched her mother shake her head. "Carol's my friend," she murmured. "I couldn't hurt her son. I couldn't even tell her… I just couldn't… the way I felt when I found out about you…"

Caroline felt like someone had stabbed her through the stomach. One hot little tear rolled out of the corner of her eye and traveled down her cheek. Liz sniffed, wiping away tears of her own. "I didn't want to be the one who made her feel that way," Liz whispered.

Silence. Caroline took a shaky breath, trying to push down the pain from that one little comment. "So… the deputies… Mrs. Lockwood… no one knows about anybody but Damon and Stefan."

Liz nodded.

"Ok," Caroline breathed. "We need to find all your deputies and dry them out."

Liz frowned. "Dry them out?"

"Lock them up and deprive them of vervain," Caroline explained. "Once it's out of their systems, I can compel them to forget."

Her mother shook her head. "Caroline, no."

"Mom, we can't…"

"_Compelling_ people?" Liz hissed. "Controlling their minds? Taking away their memories? Caroline… it's not right."

"Well, what else are we supposed to do?" Caroline snapped. "They know about Damon and Stefan, Mom. If they…"

"Damon and Stefan have been lying to the council from the start," Liz interrupted. "Damon let us believe he was on our side! Caroline, Matt told me all the things he's done. He's a legitimate threat to this town!"

Caroline took a deep breath. "Maybe Damon's… made some mistakes…"

"_Mistakes_?"

"But Stefan's done nothing but protect the people here!" Caroline defended her friend. "He's really a good person, Mom."

"He's not…"

Liz cut herself off, swallowing too hard and lowering her eyes to the tan carpet. Caroline's back straightened and her fists clenched.

"He's not what, Mom?" she asked in a low voice. "He's not a person?"

Liz said nothing, her hands fisting in her short blonde hair.

"Just like how _I'm_ not a person?"

"Caroline," Liz said, her eyes pleading. "Please. I love you."

The silence happened again. Liz was staring at her daughter, and Caroline was trying to fight her trembling lower lip. Finally, Liz shook her head and buried her face in her hands.

"Maybe I can convince them to leave Stefan alone," she said, her voice muffled. "I believe you when you say he's done nothing wrong. But Damon is a different story. He's killed people – good people, people we both knew and liked. He's manipulated me, and the council. The things he's done…"

"Mom," Caroline interrupted again. "Mom, he's your friend."

Liz's head snapped back up and her eyes went ice cold, boring into Caroline's. "No," she disagreed. "No, I don't know that. Not anymore."

Caroline shook her head at her mother. "He's changed now. He's different."

"That doesn't wipe away the past."

There was a sob Caroline was trying to repress, and now it felt like the sob was trying to choke her. She swallowed painfully, blinking her stinging eyes, and made a decision.

"Mom, Damon's dying."

Liz started up and stared at her. She shook her head, her eyes looking strange. "What are you talking about?"

"In the Grille," Caroline explained. "When you saw him, looking all sweaty and sickly and gross… he's sick, Mom, and he's dying. He got bitten by a werewolf."

Liz blinked at her. "Werewolf bites can kill a vampire," Caroline kept going. "Only on a full moon, when they're changing. Tyler bit him, Mom, by mistake. Tyler bit him because Damon tried to stop him from biting me."

Caroline watched her mother, who was shaking her head, her mouth open as though she had something to say. Nothing came out. "He didn't mean to," Caroline was quick to add. "Tyler didn't mean to. He couldn't control himself; it wasn't his fault."

Her mother still looked so lost, and it was hurting Caroline, but she knew what had to be done. She stood up, crossed the room, and hated how relieved she was when she hugged her mother, and Liz didn't flinch.

"If you can't forgive Damon for lying to you," Caroline murmured. "Maybe you can be grateful for what he did for me."

Then Caroline stood and headed for the door. She heard her mother get to her feet. "Where are you going?" Liz croaked after her.

"The Salvatore house. I have to check on my friends."

"Caroline…"

"I have to go," Caroline cut her off, turning around and trying to give her mother a no-nonsense glare. Her mother blinked at her, surprised. Before this revelation, her mother would have looked amused, but now…

"I have to go," she said again. "Maybe you don't understand it, but the Salvatore brothers have been there for me when no one else was. I can't let anyone hurt them."

"You're going to look for my deputies," her mother replied. "You're going to compel them, even though I've asked you not to."

"Mom," Caroline shook her head hopelessly. "Your deputies have been raised to hate vampires! They hunt and _kill_ vampires! Those people can't know about Stefan and Damon… and they can't know about me."

"This is exactly why we've always hunted the vampires," Liz retorted. "This compelling thing… erasing memories and controlling people's minds… as if the feeding, and the killing, and all the other pain isn't enough! Caroline, don't you get it? You can't take people's memories like that! You can't invade their minds! It's wrong!"

Caroline stared blankly at her. Liz shook her head, her eyes taking on a desperate shine. "Please, don't. If I can make compromises for you, can't you make compromises for me?"

There was a long pause. Caroline stared at the floor, choosing her words. Then she met her mother's eyes again. "I already did," she told her. "I chose not to compel _you_. I chose to _finally_ be honest with you; to build a _real_ relationship between us! I can't make that same choice with the deputies. They hate vampires, Mom, and they don't have a newly turned vampire daughter to complicate their feelings."

Her mother looked stricken, her eyes welling up again and her hand going to her mouth. Caroline lowered her eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry, Mom," she murmured.

Liz said nothing. Caroline turned and walked out the door.

* * *

><p>Tyler crept down the stairs, hearing his mother poking about his father's old office. He could hear the crumpling and rumpling of papers and the slap of file folders on the expensive wood desk. His mother was muttering under her breath, and Tyler picked up on a few words that were completely out of character for her to be muttering.<p>

He walked slowly to the office door and peered into the dark, wood-paneled room, lit only by the small green lamp sitting on the desk. His mother, dressed and groomed perfectly, her appearance marred only by the blue cast on her arm, was rifling through his father's things, still muttering.

"Mom," he said.

Carol Lockwood jumped, staggering back from the desk. "Tyler," she breathed.

She looked incredibly guilty, as though he'd caught her doing something wrong. Tyler almost didn't understand. Whatever was hiding in his father's office was now hers. She was allowed to rifle.

He frowned at her, wondering exactly what his mother was looking for. "Mom," he said again. "Are you ok?"

Carol took a deep breath and composed herself, fluffing her auburn bob with her uninjured hand. "I'm fine, honey."

Tyler frowned harder, walking into the room. "What are you looking for?"

"Oh, just… sorting through some of your father's stuff," she replied evasively. "Things have been hectic. I really should have gotten to this sooner."

She took another deep breath and turned to face him. "I'm glad you're home," she announced. "I haven't said anything about your little disappearing act because I was just so happy to see you while I was in the hospital, but that doesn't change the fact that you and I need to have a serious discussion."

Tyler rolled his eyes and sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "Great."

"Don't take that tone of voice with me, Tyler," Carol said sternly. "You ran away from home. You were gone for nearly a month. I had no idea where you were! Do you have any idea what that did to me?"

He took a deep breath, and stared at the window behind his father's desk.

"Tyler," his mother snapped. He forced himself to look at her. Carol looked him in the eye, and he saw the anger fade, replaced by something like concern. His mother had almost never looked at him like that. Back when his father had been alive, it was all about the parties and the festivals and the re-election races. To say there had been one good relationship in the entire Lockwood household would have been a lie.

But now when she looked at him, he felt like she loved him. It was a step up. "You can't do that again," Carol said softly. "I've already lost your father. I can't lose my son too."

Tyler stared at her. He swallowed. "I'm not going anywhere, Mom. Not this time."

Carol nodded. Then she crossed the room and gave him an awkward, one-armed hug. Tyler hugged her back, staring at the desk behind her. Carol brushed her lips against his cheek and pulled back with a smile.

"We'll talk to your school principle in the morning," she announced. "See if we can't get you back on the right track."

He nodded, forcing a smile for her. "Ok."

Carol straightened his shirt for him and then turned back to the desk. Tyler re-crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb.

"What are you looking for?" he asked again.

Because as much as he loved his mother, and as certain as he was that she loved him back, he knew that Matt had spilled the beans to Sheriff Forbes about vampires, witches, and werewolves… and he knew that his mother, now the head of the anti-vampire council in Mystic Falls, would have been the first one the sheriff told.

It was an odd, unsettling feeling, loving his mother and at the same time not trusting her at all. Lately, he'd been having that feeling a lot, and he'd been having it about almost everyone. He'd respected Jules, been her friend… but he'd never totally trusted her. He'd loved his uncle, still missed him… but he'd never trusted Mason when he was alive, and he didn't regret that now that Mason was dead. The more he learned about Mason and his vampire girlfriend, Katherine, the more he realized that Mason had never been honest with him.

He cared a lot about his old friend Matt, but he'd stopped trusting him the moment Damon had told Caroline, "Your boyfriend's outside with a gun loaded with wooden bullets."

He'd trusted Caroline ever since she'd told him she was a vampire. He trusted her right up until Jules had told him that Caroline wasn't the only vampire in town, and that the other vampires were the ones who'd murdered Mason.

And now he knew he couldn't totally trust his mother either.

Carol turned from the desk and looked at him. Tyler held her eye contact, giving her the hardest look he could stand giving his own mother.

"Tyler," she murmured, sounding tired. "Your father left a lot of messes behind. I'm still trying to clean them all up."

He instinctively knew she meant the vampires.

"What sort of messes?" he asked.

"Insurance policies, unsigned work contracts, unpaid bills…" Carol listed nonchalantly. "I'm just checking to make sure I've got all the paperwork."

He didn't take his hard eyes off her. "Ok," he said.

"Why don't you go to that movie night in the square?" Carol suggested. "I'm not the only one who's been missing you. You should catch up with your friends."

Tyler shrugged. "I'm not really in the mood for a movie."

Carol sighed and turned away again. "Suit yourself."

She began rifling through the papers on his father's desk, but without the energy or the mumbling. Tyler saw the deflection. He decided not to press the issue.

He moved away from the door and started wandering off down the dark hallway. He strained his ears, listening for any more sounds from the office. The moment he reached the end of the hallway, he heard his mother kick up the search again.

Tyler made a mental note to do a search of his own. Then he walked out of the house and sat down on the porch.

It was cool that night. He watched the woods on the edge of the lawn, thinking. Maybe it had been a mistake to come home. Jules was dead because he'd come back to Mystic Falls. And Damon Salvatore was dying because Tyler had bitten him.

If he didn't hate the son of a bitch so much, he might have been out there with Caroline and Stefan, trying to find a way to save him. He didn't want to think that he'd signed the death warrant of yet another person. Except Damon wasn't just another person. He was a vampire who had killed his uncle Mason, and Tyler didn't give a damn if he died.

Maybe it had been a mistake, he thought again. But it didn't matter. He was home now, and he'd promised both his mother and Caroline that he wasn't going to leave again.

He'd broken too many promises in his life already. This one, he planned to keep.

* * *

><p>Caroline pushed open the door to the Salvatore house, peering inside with caution.<p>

"Hello?" she called. "Elena?"

"Caroline?"

She heard her best friend's cry float down from the top of the stairs. Elena sounded shaky, as though something had upset her. Caroline ran up the stairs in a blur, reaching Damon's bedroom in seconds.

Elena gasped, surprised by Caroline's sudden appearance. "Don't do that," she breathed.

"Sorry," Caroline replied, screwing up her nose. "What's going on? Is Damon all right?"

"Never better, Blondie."

She stepped around Elena as Damon struggled to sit up on the bed. He was covered in sweat and still looked half-dead. He groaned, nearly falling back on the mattress.

Elena rushed over to the bed and gently pushed him back down. "Stop it," she told him sternly. "You need to rest."

Caroline frowned, following Elena to Damon's bedside. His arm, the one that Tyler had bitten, was no longer black and infected. "It's healing," Caroline said accusingly. "What happened?"

"Katherine was here," Damon drawled. "She brought me a cure."

Caroline blinked. "Katherine?"

He shrugged. "Wonders never cease."

Damon looked totally pathetic, Caroline decided. He was still pale and sweaty and in pain, cure or no cure. The jokes weren't hiding a thing.

Elena sighed. "I'm worried about Stefan," she murmured. "He went to talk with Klaus, and now he isn't answering his phone."

"Ok, someone needs to back up and explain things to me," Caroline said, starting to feel exasperated. "Like where in the hell did Katherine get a cure for a wolf bite?"

Elena shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. She just came in here with a bottle of something… it looked like blood."

"Tasted like blood," Damon grunted from the bed.

"She didn't say what it was, or exactly where it came from," Elena went on. "All she said was that it was a cure, and that Stefan was paying for it."

Caroline felt her stomach drop out of the bottom of her gut. "Paying for it?" she asked in a small voice.

Elena nodded. She was trying to be brave, but Caroline could see the tears forming in her big brown doe eyes. "She said he gave himself over to Klaus. She said not to expect him back anytime soon."

Not Stefan. Caroline swallowed, wanting to comfort Elena, but not having the stomach for it. Stefan was her mentor, her lifeline… hell, Stefan was her best friend.

"He's not answering his phone," Elena said, her voice catching. "He hasn't replied to my texts. Caroline… I'm scared."

Caroline looked up at her old friend, hating the tears welling up in the brunette's big eyes. Elena was trying not to cry, but her chin was trembling and the tears were starting to spill. Caroline forced down her own fears and stepped up to play comforter.

She drew Elena into her arms and rubbed the other girl's back. "It'll be all right," she told her, forcing positivity into her voice. "We'll find him. We always find everybody."

"Exactly," Damon added hoarsely from the bed. "Doesn't matter where Klaus takes my brother… I'm going to bring him right back here."

Caroline could tell by the sound of his voice that he meant it. Meanwhile, Elena's hot little tears were seeping through her tee shirt, dampening Caroline's shoulder. She tightened her arms around her. "Everything will be all right, Elena," she whispered.

She glanced over at Damon, whose eyes were fixed on Elena. They had this desperate, hopeless shine to them that gave Caroline goose bumps. Klaus had Stefan. _Stefan._ The best one of them all. Caroline needed him, Damon needed him… Elena needed him. And now Klaus had taken him away.

Damon's skin was still wet with perspiration. The bags under his eyes were not going away, and his lips were chapped. Caroline hated to bother either him or Elena with trivial details like her mother's deputies, but getting Stefan back wasn't going to be any easier if they had the Mystic Falls police force on their backs.

She pulled away from Elena slowly, leaving one comforting hand on her shoulder. "Those deputies that came here earlier tonight," she murmured. "Are they…?"

"Dead in the basement?" Damon interrupted with a hint of his old impish self. "You bet they are, Barbie."

Elena glared at him over her shoulder. Caroline blinked and made herself smile. "Ok," she said. "Look, I'm going to take care of that. You two stay up here. Damon, rest… Elena, take care of Damon."

Damon sounded ready to protest. Elena was on the verge of murmuring something too – probably an argument of her own. Caroline ignored them both and hurried out into the hall.

"Elena," she could hear Damon croaking from the bedroom.

"Shh," she replied. "Go to sleep."

"I need you to… please."

"Rest, Damon."

"Do you forgive me yet?"

Caroline froze at the top of the stairs, listening even though she knew she shouldn't be. He sounded like a child – a sick, sleepy child, begging his best friend to play with him again. Elena was a quiet for a long time.

"No," she heard her old friend whisper. "I can't, Damon."

Caroline didn't stick around to hear Damon's answer. All of a sudden, the scene felt too intimate, and even at her nosiest, Caroline knew when to give two people some space. Instead, she took off down the stairs and headed into the cellar.

It was cold down there, and from the moment she hit the basement steps, she could smell blood. Her fangs popped out. Caroline took a deep breath through her mouth and tried to force them back.

At the foot of the steps she found only one body waiting for her, a young police officer bleeding out by his neck. Caroline wrinkled her nose, sighing at the sight. She knew in this instance Damon couldn't be entirely blamed… he'd been delusional from the werewolf bite… but still. He always managed to hurt more people than necessary. Stefan was eternally cleaning up his messes.

Except now Stefan was missing, Caroline reminded herself. Stefan was missing, and it fell to her to clean up Damon's mess.

The fangs refused to retract. Caroline took another deep breath and forced her eyes shut. The smell was overpowering, and everything in her wanted a taste… he was already dead, after all. What could one small sip hurt? Surely Stefan wouldn't disapprove of that, feeding off a man who was already dead…

It was enough to make her nauseous. Stefan was missing, she told herself again. Her best friend was missing. Suddenly, the fangs retracted and the craving passed. She wasn't hungry anymore.

Caroline lifted the body off the ground and trekked back upstairs. She'd bury the man and then she'd go looking for the other two deputies. They had to be compelled. This mess had to be cleaned up, and she was the only one who could do it. Elena would slow her down, Stefan was MIA, Damon was half-dead, and Bonnie was busy with Jeremy and Alaric. As for her mother… Caroline knew her mother was in no position to help her tonight.

There was someone who could help her. She'd nearly forgotten him; she was so used to him being gone. She didn't need him for the body, but for the living breathing deputies racing around town…

Caroline finally made it to the outside of the Salvatore mansion, the deputy's body bridal style in her tiny arms. She could very vaguely remember a time when she'd struggle lifting a heavily packed box. Those days were over now.

She took off at full speed, a blur of white in the darkness, headed for the Salvatore's usual burial grounds, and wishing with all her heart she didn't know where that was.

* * *

><p>Jeremy Gilbert was slow and deliberate in his steps as he made his way to the first floor of the Gilbert family home. He couldn't hear the strange noises that had woken him anymore, but he swore he could feel somebody in the house.<p>

He passed the living room couch, hearing the sound of Alaric snoring, and made his way to the kitchen. He strained his ears, his eyes sharp, trying to figure out what was in the house. Ever since he'd woken up in the ruins of the old witches' settlement with Bonnie and Alaric leaning over him, his skin had been crawling. He felt weird, he'd told Bonnie, but it was more than that. His skin sung with electricity, his eyes felt too wide, his fingers twitched.

"Jer?"

The voice came from behind him, and Jeremy whirled. Nothing was there. He frowned and turned again.

The phantom presence in the house stood before him. He jumped. She stared at him, and Jeremy felt the world drop out from underneath him.

"Anna?" he choked.

The small, skinny Chinese girl with the long, wavy black hair was supposed to be dead. He'd watched Sheriff Forbes' deputies cart her off, out of the Mystic Grille… Damon had told him what his uncle had done to her in the basement of his father's old office… the stake, the fire…

He felt as though something stood behind him, breathing down his neck. Jeremy whirled around again, and there stood another young girl, much taller and curvier than Anna, with long chestnut brown hair, her hazel eyes much more serious than they'd ever been in life.

"Vicki?" he gasped.

The two phantoms lingered in the hallway, staring at him as he whipped his head back and forth between them.

Vicki, still wearing that uncharacteristically somber expression, walked up to him and put her hand on his face. A cold chill swept through him.

"I'm sorry," she said.

He frowned. "Vicki? I don't…"

Another cold hand grabbed his arm, sending shivers up and down his spine. Jeremy turned his head, wide eyes focused on Anna's face. She didn't say anything, just stared at him. Jeremy swallowed. "Anna, I… I don't… how are you _here_?"

"What makes you think I left?" she asked, and he saw a ghost of her old grin on her otherwise serious face. "Lurky old me."

Vicki's hand fell away from his face. He turned back towards her. She was backing away, slowly, her eyes on his eyes, never wavering. "Vicki, wait," he said. "Don't go."

She kept backing away. Anna let go of his arm and Jeremy turned to her next, reaching out for her hand. "Anna, please."

"Jeremy?"

Alaric's voice echoed from the living room. For a split second, he turned towards the older man's voice. It was enough. When he looked back at Vicki and Anna, they were both gone.

He stood there in the hall, alone, his skin crawling and ice traveling his spine. Alaric poked his head out of the living room, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown. "What's going on?"

"Did you see that?" Jeremy demanded.

"What?"

"You didn't see it."

Alaric stepped further into the hallway. "Jeremy…"

Jeremy swallowed, taking a step back from his history teacher. Alaric frowned at him again. "You look like you've seen a ghost," the other man observed.

He ran a shaking hand through his hair, exhaling harshly. "I think I did."

* * *

><p>The deed was done, and Caroline felt icky. She wanted to take a hot shower and scrub away the dead deputy, scrub away his scent and his blood and the mud that she'd buried him in.<p>

She didn't have time for that. Instead, she returned to the Salvatore boarding house and climbed into the driver's seat of her car. She started the ignition, but didn't shift out of park. Instead, she dug through the purse she'd left in the passenger seat and yanked out her cell phone. From what her mother had told her, Caroline knew she had at least two deputies to track down and compel. It wouldn't be an easy task, not when she was flying solo. With a sigh, she dialed the only person in a position to help her: Tyler Lockwood.

"Yeah?" he answered the phone.

"Tyler? It's Caroline."

"Yeah," he said again. "I know."

He was being a dick. Caroline rolled her eyes. "Look, I kind of need some help with something."

"You kind of need some help with something," he repeated. She pictured an infuriating smirk on his face, and wished he was standing right in front of her so she could smack it off.

"Yeah, um… look, just so you know, Katherine – the vampire that looks like Elena? She gave Damon a cure for your bite and he's going to be ok."

Tyler didn't respond. Caroline wondered how he felt – relieved, angry, completely apathetic?

"But he's still weak, and Stefan is missing and… and my mom tried to kill all the vampires in Mystic Falls tonight, so…"

"Are you all right?"

He wasn't being a dick anymore, and it was enough to floor her for a moment. He sounded genuinely concerned. No matter how many times it happened, it always seemed to surprise her.

"I'm fine. We talked, and… we're working it out. But some of her deputies broke into the Salvatore mansion earlier tonight, and of course ran into a seriously whacked out Damon, so…"

"This should be the weirdest phone call I've ever gotten, and yet it's not."

"Sorry?"

"You're asking me to help you move bodies, aren't you?"

Caroline felt her jaw drop at his bluntness. He wasn't that far off base, of course, but still. Hearing it out loud like that made her feel… oh, you know. Like a monster?

She sighed. "Not exactly. Some of them are still out there, running around looking to hunt down vampires, so… I need help finding them. I know it's lame, dragging you into this, and normally I wouldn't, but there's no one else to help me right now and I've still got to track down the deputies that helped my mom haul in Elena because I need to compel them and…"

"Caroline. Stop. Breathe."

"Shut up, Tyler. Are you going to help me or not?"

He sighed harshly into the phone. "Yeah. Pick me up. I'll be here."

Then he hung up.

Caroline stared at her cell phone for a moment, and then she sighed too and snapped the phone shut, shoving it into her purse while rolling her eyes. He was such a jerk.

She was glad he was back in town anyway.

* * *

><p>Matt Donovan banged the plastic gray bin down on the table by the front window of the Mystic Grille and started dumping plates and glasses inside.<p>

The lights were low, the place was empty, and his manager was locking the front door. Matt frowned at the table, wiping at the cheap wood surface with his rag, scrubbing much harder than necessary as he glared at the blots of ketchup and mustard and breadcrumbs.

A week ago, he'd told Sheriff Forbes to stuff it and hung up his vampire hunting cap, giving up on the supernatural crap for good. His life was undoubtedly easier now, but he was lonely. All his friends were either not-human, or completely wrapped up in the paranormal despite their human handicap. He was back to being Matt Donovan, the kid with the dead sister, the kid whose mother left him, the kid who had to work long hours at the Grille on top of high school because otherwise he wouldn't be able to pay the bills. His best friend the werewolf hadn't spoken to him since the last full moon, when Matt had shot him – although, he hadn't really been speaking to Tyler at all for the last month or so, seeing as the guy had left town with some other werewolf and then refused to answer his phone. He'd dumped his vampire girlfriend a mere week ago, and now she avoided the Grille like the plague… which was fine, because as much as he missed Caroline, as much as he _loved _Caroline, he wasn't lying when he said he couldn't handle her vampire drama. All his other friends were off doing who knows what – being that one of them was a witch and the other was a doppelganger and…

Matt sighed, slapping the rag inside the bin and then moving onto the next table. He was really starting to hate this place.

He felt a chill in the room as he loaded up his bin with another table's worth of plates and cups. Goosebumps popped on his arms; the hairs on the back of his neck stood up straight. Matt frowned, looking around the dining room.

He was alone. Even the manager had disappeared back into the kitchen, probably to oversee cleaning. Sighing again, Matt ran his hand through his dirt-blonde hair and returned to busing tables. He was officially losing his mind.

"Matty?"

Matt jumped at the voice in his ear. Swiveling around, clutching his chest, his eyes darted all over the room in a panic.

Nobody was there.

Forcing oxygen into his lungs, Matt slowly lowered his hand from his chest and glared at the Grille. Something was definitely up. He didn't know what it was; vampires, werewolves, witches… ghosts…

The voice had sounded hauntingly familiar. Matt turned around and tried to go back to cleaning up, but his hands were shaking now. A cold wind swept through the dining room, ruffling his blue tee shirt and leaving him shivering.

He glanced around him one more time. Everything seemed normal, until his eyes swept over the large potted fern by the entrance. Matt frowned. It looked like it was dying. The leaves were drooping and black and wilting onto the floor.

When the hell had that happened?

He turned away and nearly jumped out of his skin.

Next to the table was a tall teenage girl, with long chestnut brown hair and weepy hazel eyes. He choked on his startled gasp.

"Vicki?"

She tilted her head and smiled at him sadly. "Hi, Matty."

"No," Matt said, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. "No. You're not really here. You're dead. I'm not seeing this – I can_not_ be seeing this, not here, not at work… no."

The Grille was silent. Matt shook his head, refusing to open his eyes. "You're not real," he whispered hoarsely, feeling tears prickling under his eyelids.

When he opened his eyes, Vicki was gone, and he was alone again in the empty Grille.

He could almost believe it hadn't been real. That he'd dreamed it up. In a way, he hoped he had. Maybe that would mean he was going crazy, but it would be better than suddenly having to believe in ghosts on top of everything else… it would be better than being haunted.

Or would it? Because on realizing that he truly was alone, Matt suddenly choked and had to blink back a fresh wave of tears.

God, he missed his sister.

He went back to scooping up used dishes and wiping down dirty tables. When he'd finished, he did one last check of the dining room before heading on back to the kitchen.

The plant by the door was dead.


	3. Oh Momma I'm in Fear for my Life

On the Origin of Species

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I am not associated with anything _Vampire Diaries_, and I make no profit off this fan fiction. Also, I stole the title from Charles Darwin. Don't sue, please… I've got nothing but some pocket change and a car that won't start.

Summary: After Elijah's betrayal, another Original comes to Mystic Falls to kill the hybrid, and discovers that history is about to repeat itself. Set post season 2 finale. Forwood first and foremost, but I love all the other characters and their relationships too much not to play with those too… and those could end up going anywhere.

* * *

><p>Chapter 2: Oh Momma, I'm in Fear for my Life<p>

Tyler heard the tires of Caroline's car rolling up his driveway even from all the way up in his bedroom. Her car squeaked as she braked outside the house. Tyler glanced out the window. Her bright blonde head poked out the driver's side door as she climbed out of the car. He ducked back in the window and jogged towards the stairs.

His mother was waiting for him in the foyer, and Tyler rolled his eyes at the woman squinting through the window panels around the front door. "Your friend's a little late, isn't she?" his mother asked.

"Sorry," he apologized. "It was kind of a last minute deal."

"Mm-hmm," his mom murmured, her eyes still peering through the glass. "Is that Caroline Forbes?"

"Yeah."

His mother straightened, and Tyler frowned at the strange rigidness to her frame. Carol Lockwood's lips were pursed and her blue eyes narrowed. She raised an eyebrow. "You two are getting kind of close."

He didn't like the tone of her voice. It reminded him of the tone she'd used back when he'd been dating Vicki Donovan. Haughty, disapproving… mean.

"She's my friend," Tyler dodged.

There was a knock on the door. Carol frowned at the doorway, and then shrugged. "Try not to stay out too late. Sheriff Forbes seems to have enough problems doing her job even without her daughter running around town at all hours of the night."

Tyler gaped after his mother as she walked off down the hall, presumably headed back towards his father's old office. His mother was never the nicest woman in town, but Sheriff Forbes was her friend. He hadn't expected her to say something like that.

When he opened the door, he could tell just by looking at Caroline that she'd heard what his mother had said. "Hey," he greeted her, hoping to ignore the situation.

Caroline tried to smile. "Hey." Then she frowned. "Your mom's mad at my mom, isn't she?"

Tyler shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe she's just mad in general. I did kind of disappear on her for a month."

He was trying to be generous. Trying to gloss over what his mother had said. Caroline wasn't buying it, but she didn't press the issue.

"Ready?" she asked.

He nodded. "Let's go."

Tyler followed her out of the house and off the large sweeping front porch. They crossed the driveway and Tyler walked around to the passenger side of her dark blue Focus. He heard the click of the lock, and then the two of them climbed into the car. Caroline started the engine.

"Where are we going?" he asked as she steered the car down the long drive.

She shrugged. "Not entirely sure."

"You don't have any idea where they went, or where they might be going…?"

"Nope," she said brightly. Tyler stared at her. "I thought I'd take you back to the Salvatore house, see if we could catch their scent…"

"Catch their scent?" he interrupted. "We? You mean me, don't you? You want me to sniff out their trail, Caroline? What the hell do you think I am, a bloodhound?"

The words were harsher than he'd meant them to be, but he couldn't help it. He tried to control his anger, and he was a lot better at it now than he used to be… he had Jules and Mason to thank for that. Still, the idea of being compared to a dog… it sent an irritated little tingle through his bloodstream. It was so… undignified. It used to piss off Jules too.

Caroline bit her lip. "I didn't mean it like that, Tyler."

"Whatever."

"Really, I didn't. It's just… you _do_ have that super nose. I mean, I do too, it's just that yours is so much stronger… at least, that's what Stefan said when he was doing research… look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

Silence hung heavy in the car, pressing down on Tyler's chest. He rolled his eyes, tilting his head back against the seat. "Sorry," he grunted. "I'm a little on edge. I overreacted."

He could see a tiny smile on Caroline's face out of the corner of his eye. "It's ok. I'm sorry too."

Tyler was silent. "Is this ok?" Caroline asked. "I mean, am I wrong? Can you pick out the scent?"

He sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. "Maybe. I'm not exactly great at this. I mean, I haven't had a lot of experience."

She nodded, keeping her eyes on the road. "We can try."

He nodded too, and stared out the window. The car went quiet again, and he could feel the tension rolling off Caroline in waves. It was seeping into his shoulders too. His muscles were tight and his shoulders were starting to ache. He rubbed his forehead, taking a deep breath. His lungs felt constricted.

"Tyler?" she asked in a small voice.

He took another deep breath. "Yeah?"

"Are we ok?"

He frowned at her. "Yeah, Caroline. We're fine."

"You're just so… I don't know. Snappy?"

Tyler laughed in spite of himself. "Snappy?"

"Yeah, I mean… you're upset, Tyler. What's going on?"

"I'm fine, Caroline."

"You're not fine. You're angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Yes, you are! You're angry, or just upset, but…"

"Jules hated the dog thing too."

Silence again. It was like a shockwave running through the Focus. Caroline's hands tightened on the steering wheel and she pressed her mouth into a thin, firm little line. Tyler rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry," he whispered.

She shook her head. "Don't be."

"I just… I was thinking about her, that's all."

Caroline nodded, eyes on the road, her grip still too tight. "That's understandable."

He shouldn't have said anything. If he'd learned nothing else from seventeen years of high society functions, it was never mention the elephant in the room. Jules was that elephant. Caroline hated that he'd gone off with her – he knew that. In her mind, Jules was the enemy.

It was her right. He got that. After what the other wolves had done to her… still, he'd been on the road with Jules for close to a month, and he'd befriended her. The other werewolf hadn't been anywhere near as bad as people thought she was. Misguided, maybe, but that's what happens when people like Brady take over your wolf pack.

"I'm sorry," Caroline said suddenly.

He looked up in surprise. "Why?"

"Well… what happened to Jules… I'm sorry. You must be hurting. We all kind of ignored it."

"It's ok," he murmured. "I know she was no friend of yours."

Silence.

"You're my friend," she said in a tiny voice.

Tyler couldn't fight the smile. "Do you miss her?" Caroline asked.

He nodded. "She helped me a lot."

They were quiet again. "She was sorry," he said suddenly. "For what happened before we left."

Caroline tensed again. "It wasn't exactly her idea," Tyler went on. "Jules really just wanted to grab me and go. It was Brady who wanted to go after you guys, mess around with the moonstone…"

He trailed off, wishing again that he'd kept his mouth shut. Caroline nodded slowly. "She didn't stop him," she pointed out, her voice quiet.

Tyler nodded too. "Yeah. She didn't. I don't think she really knew how. Besides…"

He trailed off and cleared his throat, eyes on the floor of the car. Suddenly, he was self conscious. He shouldn't be talking about this.

"She wouldn't mind breaking the curse?" Caroline supplied.

Tyler nodded. "Can you blame her?" he asked. "The curse sucks."

She laughed. Silence followed.

"Why did she want to take you away?" Caroline asked.

Tyler shrugged. "She was Mason's friend. Not just, like, a pack mate or whatever. They were real friends. She said… she said he would have wanted her to look out for me."

The car got real quiet again. She kept her eyes on the road. Tyler swallowed, choking on the dryness of his throat. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "For that night…"

"Don't," she ordered. "We're not rehashing that again. Ok? I don't want to talk about it."

Tyler fell silent again, mildly relieved – although the edge to her voice had been anything but comforting. For all his rash, raging impulses, he could really be a coward. He didn't want to talk about it either. She'd forgiven him – at least, she'd said she'd forgiven him. He didn't want to examine any of it too closely, because if he did he might find that there was too much in the past for them to ever get over, to ever get back to the way they were.

Although, when he really thought about it, the way they were sucked. She'd been his friend when he needed one, and he was always going to be grateful for that. Still, she'd spent the early months of their friendship lying her ass off, so… maybe they shouldn't go back to the way things were. Maybe they should try something new.

Finally, Caroline turned into the Salvatore driveway. He heard the crunch of her tires on the aging, cracked pavement. Tyler glowered out the windshield at the old boarding house, looming over the Focus like some sort of stupid horror movie mansion.

Why the hell was he even here? This was the Salvatore place. They hated him. He hated them back. Damon was in there, recovering from a near-fatal wolf bite that _Tyler_ had given him. This was not a place he should be. Ever.

Still, here he was. Caroline parked, and they both climbed out of the car.

"Can you smell anything?" she asked meekly.

He glared at her until she shuffled awkwardly and dropped her eyes. Then he sighed, shut his eyes, and breathed in deep through his nose.

Something distinctly human wafted through his nostrils. He smelled Elena. The brunette girl always used the same perfume or shampoo or whatever, and that scent was still lingering in the drive. He smelled more humans too… the musk of Jeremy. He recognized that cheap cologne anywhere. The scent of his history teacher – aftershave and alcohol…

He opened his eyes, the scents staggering him. Did everyone he know really have their own distinct smell? How could he remember them so well? He'd spent most of his wolf-hood with Jules, miles away from here.

Still, he recognized them. There were vampire smells too – lots of them – but he could still catch the human scents lingering underneath. Some of them were unfamiliar. He decided those were probably the deputies.

He followed the scent, walking slowly down the drive. He hit the street. Under the smell of asphalt and the decaying plant waste in the storm sewer, he vaguely picked up the stench of birds and squirrels and humans… and burnt rubber, and dirt, and rainwater.

The human scent was faint, blocked undoubtedly by the car the humans had driven. Tyler sniffed deep again, but the scent only got fainter. He sighed, shoulders slumping, and glared at the road.

"Anything?"

Tyler stiffened, surprised by her voice. Turning, he found Caroline standing behind him, at the edge of the drive, her hands threaded awkwardly together as she stared at him with hopeful eyes.

He sighed, and shook his head. "It's getting fainter. I'm not sure I can hold the scent… it'll mix too easily with other humans."

She bit her lip. "Oh."

They stood at the end of the Salvatore driveway by the gates and the shrubs, staring at each other. Tyler scratched the back of his neck, unsure what to do next. Caroline's phone rang.

She pulled it out of her jeans and checked the display. A sigh escaped her lips. "My mom," she explained before answering the phone. "Hey, mom. Are you all right?"

He watched her with a raised eyebrow. He could hear every word her mother said. "I'm fine, Caroline. I need you to come home."

She sounded so strange. Her words were stilted. Tyler frowned at Caroline, who took a deep breath. "Mom, I want to come home but I can't just this minute. I have to find…"

"Caroline," her mother interrupted sternly. "Come home _now_."

"But, mom…!"

She sounded so whiny, like an actual teenage girl. Tyler almost smiled.

"Please come home," her mother said, her voice tired. "I'm going to help you."

Caroline's eyes widened. "You are?"

"Just get here as soon as you can. Please?"

"Ok."

He heard the click when her mother hung up. Caroline ended the call and tucked her phone back in her jeans. "My mom said she's going to help," she said, smiling a little too brightly. "Um… do you want to…?"

"I'll come," he agreed.

They climbed back into her car. She started the engine and pulled out of the Salvatore driveway.

"So… you talked to your mom about the whole vampire thing?" he asked.

Caroline nodded. "Yep."

"And she's ok with it? Just like that?"

"No," Caroline sighed. "She's not ok with it. She's not ok with any of it. But it's too late; I'm a vampire, and there's no coming back from that. So… she's trying to adjust."

The car fell silent. Tyler stared at her. She was focused on the road, but he could see her lip trembling.

"Caroline," he began, but she cut him off.

"Everything's going to be fine," she said, forcing a smile. "It has to be."

He always wondered at her incredible positivity. Nothing was going to be fine; nothing would be fine ever again. The two of them had been royally fucked over by life, and everything sucked. Why the hell did she try so hard to make it seem ok?

Tyler didn't say any of that. "Sure," he agreed, nodding. "It'll be fine."

And once again, the car was silent.

* * *

><p>It was after three in the morning, and under no circumstances should Bonnie Bennett have to be out of bed. She was exhausted, and more importantly, her father was home. He was home, and he was compulsion free, and if he found out she was missing from her bedroom, she was going to be so grounded.<p>

It amazed her, after everything she'd been through, that being grounded was still an issue. Klaus might be gone for now, but he hadn't been killed. He could come back, at any moment, and Bonnie fully expected that he would. It was such a waste. So many good people had died, and all for nothing.

She tried not to laugh as she climbed out of her car, parked by the curb in front of the Gilbert house. It wasn't because she found anything funny – it was more the sort of laugh born from exhaustion and near hysteria. Her boyfriend had _died_ mere hours ago, and she had pulled off some miraculous spell work to bring him back to life. The spirits of the witches back at the old settlement were seriously angry with her. And now, there was this: Jeremy had just called her in a panic and demanded she come to his house as soon as possible – 'right now before the sun was even up' soon as possible.

The green alien glow of the streetlamps cast long shadows over the Gilberts' yard. Bonnie shivered in the night air as she stepped onto the front porch and knocked on the door.

Alaric was the one to answer it. He looked disheveled, his light brown hair sticking up every which way, his dark blue eyes red and bleary and full of anxiety. She frowned at him, and he stared dubiously back.

"What's the problem?" she asked.

"We've got consequences," he replied.

Her mouth went dry. She frowned harder at him, shaking her head, trying to make sense of the situation. "Is Jeremy…?"

"Physically, sure, the kid's fine," Alaric interrupted. "But psychologically…?"

"I'm not crazy, Ric!" she heard an irritated voice holler from within.

Alaric sighed and stepped back. Bonnie crossed the threshold and ran for the living room. Jeremy sat on the couch in a sea of pillows and blankets. He looked up as she ran in and managed a shaky smile. "Hey, Bon."

"Jeremy," she said slowly, stepping around the couch. "Are you all right?"

His smile faltered. Bonnie set her Grimoire on the coffee table and dropped her bag on the floor. "Um… yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just…"

Bonnie sank into the couch beside him as he let loose a sigh. She took his hand, her eyes fixed on his face. Jeremy squinted at her. "That spell you did," he said. "Were there… complications?"

It was a loaded question. Sure, there were complications. There had been head splitting migraines and bloody noses, and a thousand dead witches hissing about how angry they were with her. Bonnie swallowed, lowering her eyes to their intertwined hands. "Um… the witches did say there would be consequences…"

"What kind of consequences?"

His voice was too eager. She straightened her back, suddenly twice as on edge. "Jeremy, why don't you just tell me what happened?"

Jeremy's breath hitched. "It's complicated."

"No, not really," Alaric's voice sounded from behind them. Both Bonnie and Jeremy looked up at him as the history teacher sauntered into the room. There was a beer in his hand that he must have snagged from the fridge while they were talking. "It's not that complicated. Jeremy's seeing dead people, Bonnie."

Subconsciously, Bonnie's hand tightened on Jeremy's. Her boyfriend shot Alaric an annoyed look. "Ric," he said.

Alaric flopped down in an armchair beside the sofa and took a swig of his beer. "Two dead people, specifically," he went on. "Why don't you tell Bonnie who you saw, Jeremy?"

Jeremy swallowed. "By the way," Alaric mumbled into his beer. "We're going to need to restock this place's liquor cabinet, because long-haul? Beer just isn't going to cut it."

The house felt wrong, Bonnie decided, and that wasn't a surprise. Elena was out, presumably with the dying Damon, and Jenna was… well, Jenna was gone. Bonnie swallowed a lump in her throat, acutely feeling the absence of all the bubbly, sparkly energy that _was_ Jenna Sommers. The house felt dark and empty and too big without it. Jeremy sitting there looking freaked was not helping matters. And Alaric? He was clearly not himself.

Actually, she was pretty sure he was drunk.

"There were people in my house," Jeremy finally explained. "Two dead vampire people, to be specific."

Bonnie's gut shriveled inside her. Jeremy took a deep breath. "I saw Anna, Bonnie. I saw Anna, and I saw Vicki."

She blinked at the coffee table. Jeremy stared at her, his eyes shining desperately. "Why did I see them, Bonnie? Is it like a side effect or something? Were they ghosts? Can I see ghosts now?"

"I… I don't know, Jer."

"What do you mean, you don't know, Bonnie?"

His voice was dark and angry and loaded with unsaid accusations. She was vividly reminded of the fight in the Square, right before Caroline's mother had accidentally shot Jeremy in the chest. He was glaring at her in a way he never did. Normally, when the two of them were together, he had no shortage of sweet, puppy-eyed looks for her – the kind of looks that made a girl melt on the inside. Now, all he had for her was anger and disbelief.

Bonnie swallowed, steeling herself. "I mean, I don't know, Jeremy. The witches promised consequences, but they never said what they would be."

Silence descended over the living room. The three of them sat quietly, sorting through the night from hell. Alaric suddenly snorted into his beer.

Jeremy glared sideways at him. "Is something funny?" he asked.

Alaric shook his head. "You're a ghost whisperer, Jeremy. Like Jennifer Love Hewitt."

"Shut up."

"We don't know they were ghosts," Bonnie said quickly. "They could have been anything. Were they corporeal?"

Jeremy opened his mouth halfway and squinted as he considered the question. "They touched me," he admitted. "Vicki put her hand on my face, and Anna grabbed my arm."

Bonnie felt her stomach shrink again. "They touched you."

"Yeah. Is that bad?"

She didn't know if it was bad. She only knew it couldn't be good – none of this could be good. "I'm not sure," she said carefully. "But if they touched you… if they were corporeal… then I don't think those were ghosts, Jeremy."

He stared at her. Bonnie expected to see horror, but instead she got rapt fascination. "What were they?"

She hesitated. "I… I can't really say, Jeremy. I don't know."

Alaric snorted again. "Zombies," he remarked offhand. "Jeremy's being haunted by ex-girlfriend zombies."

Jeremy glared at the older man. "Do you have anything useful to say, or are you just going to sit there and mock me all night?"

Bonnie didn't look at either of them. She stared at the coffee table again, eyes on her Grimoire, her mind far away, in the old witches' mansion, hearing their hisses and their cries and feeling their burning pain…

She felt Jeremy's hand on her shoulder and started at the touch. "Bonnie?" he asked. "Are you ok?"

Bonnie forced a smile for him. "Sure. Fine. Just thinking."

He nodded. "Do you think… _are_ they zombies? Like, vampire zombies? Are those even real?"

She stared at him, and kind of hated the way he didn't look scared. _She_ felt terrified, but Jeremy looked interested. Like her spell-gone-bad was some sort of science experiment and he was intent on closely examining the results.

At first when she'd started dating Jeremy, his interest in all things supernatural, particularly her witchcraft, was endearing. It was half the reason she'd agreed to take that next step with him. A guy who could handle what she was, and even love her for it… well, guys like that just don't come around every day.

Now she wished he wasn't so curious. She wished he'd look afraid. Even just apprehensive. Like he understood the enormity of the situation. She wished he didn't look so… so… so _hopeful_.

"I don't know," she said again, wishing she could say something else. "Considering what we've been through in the past few weeks, I'd say anything is possible."

"Great," Alaric groaned. "Vampire zombies? We have to deal with _vampire zombies_?"

"Maybe," Bonnie murmured hesitantly. "They could be something else. I have to check the Grimoire…"

"I can't believe this," Alaric interrupted, shaking his head and clearly not listening to her. "_Zombies._"He took a long gulp from his beer, and then looked back up at Bonnie, raising his eyebrow. "So… how the hell do we get rid of them?"

Jeremy frowned, first at Alaric and then at Bonnie. "Get rid of them?"

Bonnie frowned back. "I thought you'd want them gone," she said.

"Well, I don't really like being haunted," he replied. "But… it's Vicki and Anna. Do we really have to get rid of them?"

Vicki and Anna. It's Vicki and Anna. Bonnie felt her gut clench up again, nausea taking hold at what her boyfriend was suggesting. She should have known. It was _Vicki_ and _Anna_. Of course Jeremy wanted to save them.

"They're _zombies_," Alaric was saying. "What, have you never seen _Dawn of the Dead_?"

"That's just a movie," Jeremy snapped. "If vampires and werewolves and witches can be good, why can't zombies?"

"We don't know they're zombies!" Bonnie snapped.

Both men jumped at her tone, and then stared at her. She sighed and shook her head, trying to regain control over her emotions. "Look," she said. "I don't know what they are, ok? Ghosts, zombies… some sort of creatures that assumed Vicki and Anna's forms… I don't know yet. So before we start with the zombie hunt, we're going to need to calm down and do a little research. Ok?"

The men continued to stare at her for awhile, before slowly nodding in agreement. "Ok," Alaric said, putting down his beer. "Research it is."

"Yeah," Jeremy added, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. "We'll just take it easy."

She forced a smile for him. He smiled back and brushed his lips against hers.

"Either way, I'm still grateful," he told her, his eyes inches away from hers, grinning in that easy way of his. Bonnie smiled at him, trying to share in the easiness, but finding it impossible to unstitch the frown between her eyebrows.

Bonnie pulled her hand from his and lifted her Grimoire off the table. "Let's get started," she announced.

She had a feeling, no matter how many reassurances Jeremy made, that dealing with these two so-called consequences was going to be anything but easy.

* * *

><p>Caroline swallowed hard, pulling her car into her driveway. She could hear Tyler's heart beating in the passenger seat beside her, and it was going way too fast for comfort. He was nervous. He was nervous because they were going to see her mother, and her mother knew he was a werewolf.<p>

Honestly, Caroline had no idea how her mother was going to react.

The two of them climbed out of the car and Caroline led the way up the front steps to the front door. She pushed the door open and stepped into the brightly lit, yellow hall. "Mom?" she called.

"In the kitchen, Caroline!"

Caroline balked at her mother's tone. She sounded cheerful and carefree, which Caroline knew wasn't the case. Hesitantly, she took a step forward, stopping immediately when she heard voices coming from the other room.

Tyler ran into her from behind. She held up a hand, waving at him to hold still without looking over her shoulder. The sound of deep, male voices came to her again, and she focused, trying to pick out what they were saying. Tyler must have heard the voices too, because he gripped her elbow suddenly and turned her around to look at him.

She blinked up at him and he gave her one of his broody, intense glowers, jerking his head at the door and widening his eyes meaningfully. Caroline shook her head and pulled her arm free. She headed for the kitchen.

His footsteps sounded behind her, following her towards the voices. Caroline stepped into the kitchen and froze at what she saw.

Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table, having a beer with three of her police deputies.

She felt Tyler's arm graze her back. He froze too. Her mother looked over her shoulder and smiled at the two of them. "Caroline, you remember Hank and Pete don't you?"

"Hi, Caroline," one of them said. He was a broad shouldered man with dark skin and an easy smile. Caroline forced a smile back.

"Sure," she said. "I remember. Hi."

Tyler's hand gripped her wrist, too tightly. She'd be seriously annoyed if she wasn't a vampire. She heard him take a step backwards. He tried to pull her along, but she ignored him, holding her ground.

"This is Harry. He's new on the force," her mother went on, gesturing at the young, blonde deputy on her left. "Harry, this is my daughter Caroline, and her friend Tyler."

"Aren't you Mayor Lockwood's kid?" Harry asked.

Caroline looked at Tyler out the corner of her eye. His jaw was tight and his dark eyes were staring daggers at the table of policemen. He nodded slightly, tilting his head to the side, and forcing a smile that looked more like a sneer.

"Yep," he said. "That's me."

Caroline tried to smile at the deputies too, knowing Tyler's smirk was more challenging than friendly. She felt it too… the adrenaline rush that warned you when you were in danger. She was facing a table full of vampire hunters, and at least one of them knew her secret. But she didn't move, even though she could feel Tyler still trying to pull her back out the door. _Trust your mother, Caroline,_ she ordered her spinning, anxious mind. _Trust your mom._

"You're out kind of late, aren't you?" Harry spoke up again, still directing his attention towards Tyler.

"Tyler's been staying with us," Liz cut in smoothly. "Carol said something about fumigating her place…?"

"You got bugs in that big old place of yours?" the pudgy, balding white guy on her mother's right asked.

Tyler gave the nod and sneer again. "Sometimes."

"It is kind of late though," Liz said, raising her eyebrow at them. "Where have you two been?"

"Uh… sorry, Mom," Caroline said, faking a sheepish grin. "We kind of got held up at the town movie night. There was sort of a party and…"

"Oh, a party?" the pudgy guy repeated knowingly. "I remember those days."

"Right," her mother murmured suspiciously. "A party. How about you two go hang out in the living room, all right? I'll be out in a minute with some sodas and we can have… have a talk."

"Uh-oh," the darker deputy grinned.

"Ok, Mom," Caroline said with forced cheer. Then she turned and followed Tyler out into the hallway.

They'd no sooner ducked out of sight when Tyler was grabbing her arm again. "We're leaving," he announced in a low voice. "_Now._"

"No," she replied, dead serious. "We're not. My mom said she'd help us."

He snorted. "There's a kitchen full of vampire hunters in there, Caroline."

"You can leave if you want to," she told him. "But I'm staying. My mom said she'd help us, and I believe her."

She _had _to believe her. She needed to be able to trust her mother. Tyler grimaced, an exasperated hiss escaping his tight lips. He shook his head in annoyance and then stomped into the living room where he took a seat on the sofa.

Caroline tried not smile at his irritation as she followed him into the other room. She sat beside him. He was hunched over slightly, his elbows perched on his knees, tapping his foot against the carpet.

She put her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. He stared at her.

Caroline withdrew her hand and focused her eyes on the coffee table. She crossed her ankles and threaded her fingers together, chewing her bottom lip. She trusted her mother. Her mother loved her. She had to hold on to that. She threaded and unthreaded her fingers, repeating the mantra over and over in her head.

Tyler reached over and took her hand, effectively ending the nervous action.

She stared at him and he stared back – but only for a second. Caroline heard her mother's step in the hall and immediately let go of his hand. Just then, Liz entered the room with two soda cans.

"Mom?" Caroline asked.

Liz glanced uneasily towards the kitchen. "They're the only three who know about the Salvatores," she explained in a hushed voice. "Well, except for one other officer, but…"

"I know," Caroline said sadly.

Liz swallowed and nodded, steel in her frame. "You said you needed to dry them out before you could compel them, so…"

She trailed off hopelessly and shrugged. "I slipped something in their drinks. It shouldn't be long now."

Caroline nodded. "All right."

A loud _thud_ sounded in the kitchen. "Harry?" one of the deputies called out in concern.

Liz looked up, startled, and then rushed for the kitchen. Caroline followed her, feeling Tyler on her heels. When they entered the kitchen, Harry was unconscious on the linoleum floor, and the black deputy (Hank? Pete?) was crouched over him in concern. The pudgy officer was blinking at the scene with his eyes all out of focus. "Harry…" he slurred.

"Pete?" the other officer asked – Hank, Caroline decided. Hank looked up, frowning at Liz. "Liz… what did you do?"

Liz lifted her chin, ice in her eyes, and stared Hank down. Pete face-planted on the kitchen table. The other officer jumped at the sound, and then glared at Liz.

He made a lunge for the sheriff, but his legs failed him. Hank tripped and fell. He tried to struggle up, but couldn't – tried to drag himself across the floor, but lacked the strength. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed onto the kitchen tile.

Liz let loose a shaky breath, closing her eyes, all the steel leaving her frame. Her shoulders slumped and she bowed her head. "Can you two move them to basement?" she asked.

"Um… sure, but… there's three of them, Mom," Caroline replied, unable to keep her hesitation out of her voice. "I just think… considering they work for you, well… they probably consume a lot of vervain, and it might take a few days to get it all out of their systems, and our house…"

She swallowed hard, watching her mother's shoulders get tenser and tenser. "I don't think we have the facilities to keep three policemen hostage," she finished lamely.

Liz nodded, keeping her eyes on her men. "We could take them to the Salvatore place," Caroline suggested. "They have a dungeon… well, I mean not a dungeon exactly, but…"

"A dungeon," Liz repeated dully. She shut her eyes and a shallow, bitter laugh escaped her throat. "Of course they do."

"Mom…"

"Take them to the boarding house," her mother interrupted. She refused to look at Caroline. "That's fine. I'll tell the force and their families that I sent them out on assignment."

Caroline nodded meekly. Her mother turned away from the kitchen and headed for the hall. "Mom?" she called.

"I'm a little tired, Caroline. I think I'll go to bed."

The words sounded so hollow. Caroline flinched. "I just wanted to say thank you."

Liz didn't say anything. She kept walking down the hall.

Tyler pushed by Caroline and headed into the kitchen. He knelt down beside Hank and hooked his hands under his armpits. "If we can each grab one, and then come back for the last guy, this shouldn't take too long," he announced.

"Uh-huh," Caroline agreed, turning her back on him. She bent over Harry and took his shoulders in her shaking hands. The sob she couldn't release before was in her throat again, and it made her chest ache. She bit it back, blinking furiously. Her eyes were stinging. Little tears started to roll down her cheeks.

"Caroline?" Tyler asked.

She forced the sounds of crying out of her voice. "Yeah?"

His hand was suddenly on her shoulder. She tried to hide her face, but he bent into her personal space and looked her right in the eye. Ruefully, she turned to him. He sighed, shaking his head. "Don't do that, Caroline."

The sob escaped her throat. He pulled her into his chest. She fisted her hands in his tee shirt and let herself sob all over him. He kept one arm wrapped around her, stroking her hair with the other hand.

"She hates me," Caroline cried into his shirt.

"No, she doesn't," he said. "She loves you. Look around."

"Well, she hates what I am."

He said nothing, which made her cry harder. He knew she was right. Her mother hated vampires, and even if Caroline could trust her now, it didn't change the fact that all the vampire parts of her life disgusted Elizabeth Forbes.

She clung too tight to his shirt, her tears soaking through the thin cotton, her face buried in his chest. Tyler was a trooper about it. He just held her, running his fingers through her hair, letting her have her meltdown.

"She'll get used to it," he said after awhile.

Caroline snorted through the tears. "Sure."

"She will."

She inhaled shakily, and then she sniffled. It felt good to let the tears out. Slowly, she pulled herself off his chest and wiped her face, regaining her composure.

"Sorry," she whispered, trying to smile.

He smiled back. "Don't worry about it."

Caroline sniffed again and then got to her feet, patting her hair. "Do I look gross?"

Tyler shook his head. "You're fine."

"All right," Caroline said, taking another deep breath. She leaned over her chosen deputy and grabbed him up under the arms. "Let's do this."

* * *

><p>Elena sighed, flopping down into a chair by Damon's bedside. He had fallen asleep not long after Caroline had left the boarding house, and he'd yet to wake up. She watched him lay there, pale as always, his black hair still damp from the fever he'd had earlier that night.<p>

She sighed and looked down at her phone for the ten thousandth time that night. Still no texts or voicemails from Stefan. Elena typed in a new message, another one of many that she'd been sending him about every thirty minutes.

_This isn't ok, Stefan. I'm scared. Please text me back._

Her thumb tapped the send button. The little envelope appeared on the cell phone display, letting her know the message had been sent. She stared at the phone, but of course, nothing happened.

With another sigh, Elena tucked the phone into her pocket and shut her eyes. There was a tiny part of her that was happy. Happy that the cure had worked and Damon was ok. For all the bad he'd done and all the different ways he'd managed to hurt her, she couldn't bring herself to wish him dead. He was her friend, forgiven or not. She cared for him.

Most of her was not happy. Most of her was scared and angry and confused. Most of her was ready to sink into a serious depression. She was also tired – too tired to cry again. She'd cried enough already for the night.

Where the hell was Stefan, and how could he be doing this to her?

She heard the front door open below and jumped. Hesitantly, she got to her feet and tiptoed to the bedroom door. She poked her head out into the hall, listening. A heavy _thump _sounded from the entrance hall.

"Shit," she heard a familiar voice cuss. "What the hell, Caroline?"

It was Tyler Lockwood.

"Sorry," she heard Caroline reply, her voice sheepish.

Elena stepped outside the room and headed down the hall. As she came down the front stairs, she found Caroline kneeling in the foyer over an unconscious police deputy. Tyler stood beside her, looking annoyed, and balancing a second sleeping officer on his shoulders. Elena frowned at the absurdity of the scene. "Um, guys?" she asked, stopping towards the bottom of the stairs. "What exactly are you doing?"

Caroline looked up, her face pinched with guilt. Elena raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, hey Elena. Um… how's Damon?"

The reminder of Damon's miraculous recovery and Stefan's subsequent disappearance was surprisingly staggering. Elena swallowed, looking at her sneakers. "He's sleeping," she replied. "So… the police deputies… what are you…?"

"These are the deputies my mom said knew about Stefan and Damon," Caroline explained quickly. "My mom called them up for me, knocked them out with some kind of drugs, I don't know… look, can we chain them up in the cellar? We have to wait until there's no more vervain in their systems before we can compel them to forget about Stefan and Damon."

Elena blinked. "Wait… your mother did this?"

"Yeah," Caroline said, forcing a too bright smile. "I decided to stop sneaking around and being afraid all the time and just… came clean. Told my mom I knew she knew, and… well, things are a little tense, but I think we're going to be ok."

Elena stared at her. Caroline's smile faltered a little bit. "The cellar?" she asked.

Reality hit Elena in the chest again, and she shook her head clear. "The cellar," she repeated. "Right. Uh… sure. Go ahead."

"Will Damon be ok with this?"

"Who cares?" Elena replied, smiling genuinely for the first time that night. "Technically, it's my house now."

Caroline smiled back. She turned to Tyler, half lifting her police deputy from the floor. "Follow me," she told him.

"Follow you where, Blondie?"

Elena froze at the voice that came from behind her on the stairs. She turned slowly, finding Damon limping down the steps. His blue eyes were narrowed dangerously at the scene in his entrance hall. Caroline looked up at Damon with big eyes, swallowing hard. Tyler only glowered back at the vampire who was currently giving him the eyeball of death.

"Damon," Elena said calmly, staring him down. "Go back to your room. You need your rest."

He snorted, brushing past her and stepping off the bottom step. "I asked you a question, _Caroline_," he growled. "Here's another one: why the hell is the werewolf in my house?"

Caroline lowered the police deputy back to the floor and straightened her back, staring Damon down with a strength and confidence that a few months ago Elena wouldn't have thought she had. "He's helping us, Damon."

"And isn't this _my_ house?" Elena asked.

Damon smirked at her over his shoulder. Elena raised an eyebrow. "That, my dear, is a mere technicality," he replied, and then turned his glower back on Caroline. "Get out."

"We have to lock up these deputies somewhere," Caroline retorted. "Otherwise, they'll never stop taking vervain and we'll never be able to compel them into forgetting all about how they want to _kill_ you. You ought to thank Tyler for helping you – not kick him out of the house."

Elena watched the scene carefully from the staircase, certain that this was going to end badly. Tyler was quietly lowering his police deputy to the floor, his eyes fixed on Damon. The look in his eyes sent a shiver down Elena's spine. He didn't look afraid of the vampire. He did look like he was on his guard, but there was also this unsettling anger stemming from his eyes. He looked almost hungry.

Elena shook her head, swallowing back her sudden fear, and tried to think rationally. Tyler might have bitten Damon, but that had been an accident. Surely he wouldn't try anything tonight.

Damon, on the other hand, completely ignored Tyler, leveling his burning, dangerous eyes at Caroline instead. "_Thank_ him?" he asked slowly. "For what exactly? Biting me? Giving me werewolf rabies?"

"He didn't mean to do that!"

Damon snorted. "Sure he didn't. Are you an idiot?"

Caroline glared at Damon, taking a deep breath. "Damon, I need his help with the deputies. Ok? That's all I'm asking. After that, we'll leave."

"You'll leave right _now_."

In a sudden blur, Damon lunged at Tyler. Elena jumped, startled. "Damon, stop it!"

Caroline leapt in front of Tyler and shoved Damon backwards. He flew into the stairwell. "Leave him alone!" she yelled at the other vampire.

Damon just bounced back off the stairs and grabbed Caroline by the throat, hefting her off the ground and propelling her into the wall. The house shook with the impact. Elena screamed in spite of herself.

"Damon!" she cried, rushing the rest of the way down the steps. "Don't!"

Tyler threw himself at Damon, knocking him sideways off Caroline. The two of them rammed into the wall by the front door, Tyler's arm lodged against Damon's throat. Damon tried to shove him off, but Tyler slammed him back against the wall. There was a blur of black, and then Damon had reversed their roles, Tyler's back against the wall instead, Damon's arm on his throat. His fangs were out and his eyes were red.

A second blur of black followed, and then Damon was against the wall again, Tyler's hands on his neck, slamming him twice more against the house. "Tyler!" Caroline shouted, picking herself up off the ground and running at the two of them so fast she turned into a blonde streak. "Tyler, stop!"

Elena reached the scene next, wide-eyed and horrified as Caroline inserted herself between the two men, shoving Tyler back. "Stop," she begged him, her hands planted firmly on his chest.

He looked down at her with huge, gold eyes. Elena stepped in front of Damon as the vampire shoved himself off the wall and tried to go after Tyler again.

"No! You need to stop," she said determinedly, her eyes boring into his. Damon stared at her a moment, and then retracted his fangs, the red blood draining from his eyes.

The room was silent. There was an electricity in the air that made Elena's hairs stand on end. She didn't take her eyes off Damon's. He tried to glare at her, but she held his gaze, all the while willing him to calm down. Behind her, she could feel Tyler's eyes as he stared at both of them, undoubtedly waiting for Damon to strike again.

Finally Damon shrugged and turned away, heading for the stairs. "Whatever," he said, smirking. "Go ahead. Lock up your deputies in _my_ cellar. I've stopped giving a shit."

Elena watched him through narrowed eyes as he climbed the steps. Damon pointed a warning finger at Tyler, his smirk widening. "Don't pee in my house."

Then he turned his back on all of them and disappeared down the second story hall.

Elena turned to Tyler and Caroline. Tyler's murderous dark eyes were still directed at the top of the stairs. She shuddered. It had unnerved her, to see the fight between him and Damon. Werewolves didn't have the same speed and strength as vampires, but that hadn't seemed to matter – Tyler had more than held his own. Elena didn't know if it was because the full moon hadn't been all that long ago, or if it was because Damon was still weak from the wolf bite. More likely than not, it was a combination of the two. Either way, it had been scary, and she did not want it to happen again.

Tyler's eyes were on Caroline now, all traces of gold gone. "Are you ok?" he asked.

Caroline shrugged him off, sounding too perky to be believable. "Please. I'm a vampire. Vampire, wall… vampire wins every time."

"I'm sorry," Elena spoke up. They both turned in her direction. "That shouldn't have happened. We're all a little on edge right now."

Caroline lowered her eyes to the floor, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. "I take it Stefan's still…"

She trailed off. "Missing," Elena supplied. "Yeah. I haven't heard from him all night."

Tyler frowned at her. Elena motored on through before he could ask a question. "Damon's just worried about him. That's all. He took it out on you two, and he shouldn't have."

"It's all right, Elena," Caroline assured her. "We'll just lock these guys up and go."

Elena nodded and forced a smile. "Sounds good. I, uh… have to go check on Damon."

She turned away and headed back upstairs. Below her came the sounds of Tyler and Caroline moving the drugged police officers towards the cellar door. She sighed, shaking her head, and walked back to Damon's room.

He was lying on his bed again, his color even whiter than usual, with his arm thrown dramatically over his eyes. Elena stepped into the room and crossed her arms, staring at him.

Damon lowered his arm and peeked at her. "Sorry," he whispered.

She shrugged. "Don't apologize to me. Apologize to Caroline, who you threw into a wall for no reason. Or apologize to Tyler, who you decided to attack for no reason."

"That tool bit me!"

"Damon," she scolded. "It was the full moon. He was halfway through his transformation. You know he couldn't control himself."

"Right," Damon drawled sarcastically. "And the fact that I killed his uncle has _nothing_ to do with it."

"Don't you think I want someone to blame for all this?" Elena retorted. "It'd be so much easier to blame this whole thing on Tyler, or even on you. But Stefan made his own choice, Damon. And attacking our friends? That won't bring him back."

Silence. Damon glared at her. Elena lifted her chin and glared right back.

"Our focus has to be on finding Stefan," she said. "That's what's important now. So right now you need to get some rest. Tomorrow, you'll get something to eat, and when you're back to normal, we'll get started."

He lifted himself on one arm and studied her. She shifted uncomfortably under his flinty gaze. "Find Stefan," he said after awhile. "That's all? That's the only thing we have to do?"

"And kill Klaus."

"We need to talk, Elena."

She sniffed, feeling a sudden, inexplicable onslaught of tears threatening to spill. "No, Damon," she replied, looking away from him. "We don't."

"We _do_, Elena," he returned angrily. "You kissed me."

Silence. She took a deep breath, composing herself. Then she looked him in the eye.

"You were dying," she said simply.

He blinked, looking stung. "Get some rest," she added. Then she turned away and walked out the door.

In the dark hall, her strength slipped away. She shut the door and leaned against the cool wood surface, blinking furiously up at the ceiling. Katherine's words were playing themselves over and over in her head: _It's ok to love them both._

"No," she told the empty hallway. "It's not ok."

She could not be like Katherine. She _refused_ to be Katherine.

Slowly, fighting back her tears, she walked away down the hall.

* * *

><p>The phone in Stefan's pocket buzzed for what felt like the thousandth time that night.<p>

"My, my," Klaus drawled from his side of the limo. "Someone must miss you dreadfully."

Stefan looked up and glowered at the blonde, curly-haired man sitting across from him. The limo was dark, but through the tinted windows, he could see the sun starting to rise. He sat in the very back, and Klaus sat with his back to the driver, cradling a glass of scotch in his hand. The smirk on the hybrid's face made Stefan's skin crawl.

"Who could it be?" he asked, taking a sip of his scotch. "Your brother, perhaps? Wondering where you've gone and why he's been cured?"

Stefan clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms, still glaring at his host. He said nothing.

"Or it is Elena?" Klaus grinned. "Begging her sweet Stefan to come home again?"

Stefan looked out the window again and said nothing.

"You can't be silent forever," Klaus said lightly. "I brought you along for company – I expect to be entertained."

"Where are we going?" Stefan asked hoarsely.

"I'm picking up another guest," Klaus replied. "She lives nearby."

Stefan frowned, finally looking Klaus in the eye. "A guest?"

"Yes," Klaus smirked again. "You may have surrendered your freedom and hopped into my limo of your own free will, but don't think I'm so blind as to believe your rag-tag crew of friends back home won't come looking for you. Seeing as one of those friends happens to be a _very_ powerful witch, I thought it best to take preventative measures. And since your lovely brother snapped my Greta's neck…"

"A witch," Stefan interrupted. "You're going to take a witch with us?"

"I always take a witch with me," Klaus returned. "I happen to enjoy them immensely."

Stefan hated the little smirk on the other man's face. No matter what, the smirk would not go away. It lurked at the corners of his mouth with every word that fell from his lips. Stefan glowered.

"Will she be joining us willingly?" he asked sarcastically. "Like Greta? Or will she be a prisoner too?"

"You're not exactly a prisoner, Stefan," Klaus smiled. "You seemed to enjoy your little snack back at the warehouse, after all. Admit it; a little part of you is happy to be coming along."

Stefan would not admit that, because it certainly wasn't true. Back at the warehouse, the young girl's blood had slipped so easily down his throat, like a warm, sweet, velvety cream, and he couldn't help draining more and more and more until there was none left to drain. But now, sitting in Klaus's car, remembering her terrified face and the way her dead body fell limp and heavy in his hands, he felt nothing but remorse.

It was a lie, the things vampires said. He could no longer turn the feelings off. The guilt ate at him no matter what he thought about.

The limo jolted to a stop. Seconds later, the driver came around back and opened the door. Klaus stepped out first, and Stefan followed.

It was small white house on a narrow street lined with tiny trees and similar small houses. The town was in Virginia, although they had left Virginia earlier to deposit Elijah's body in the warehouse. The warehouse had been in a Maryland harbor, three hours from Mystic Falls. Now, they were back in Virginia, just in time for the sun to rise, at least two hours west of the town he'd left behind forever. Eight hours on the road was tiresome, and Stefan wanted to sleep. All the blood he'd consumed over the night had left him feeling full, fat, and tired.

Still, the back of his throat itched with undeniable thirst. He recognized he could eat again. It scared him.

Klaus was walking up the yard, towards the front porch. Stefan followed him. As he climbed the front steps, his ears caught the quiet sound of a Latin chant from deep within the house.

The door flew open and hit the inside wall with a tremendous _bang!_ Klaus marched inside, rubbing his hands together. "Oh, Mistress Mary!" he bellowed. "You have visitors!"

Stefan smelled witch's herbs and ash. Klaus stomped his way through the house to the tiny kitchen at the back. Stefan followed, his stomach twisting inside him, eyes roving over the dark furnishings and tiny, dimly lit rooms; the walls were cracked, the paint was chipped, and there was dust gathering in the corners.

Klaus sauntered into the kitchen. It was white, with shelving instead of cabinets, and dried herbs hanging off wires strung across the ceiling. In the center of the kitchen, beside a table cluttered with flickering candles and old silver bowls, stood a middle-aged woman with wild, frizzy red hair, her hands stretched out in front of her, and her head thrown back, eyes blinking rapidly at the ceiling as she continued chanting in Latin.

Wind whipped through the kitchen as her chanting grew louder. Klaus marched right up to her. Suddenly, flames whipped up around the table, blocking his path. Stefan hung back by the door, eyes wide, looking all around him for a way out just in case the witch in the kitchen decided to burn her house to the ground.

"Tsk, tsk," Klaus scolded, wagging a finger at her. He took a running leap, turning into a black and blonde bur, and vaulted over the fire. In seconds his hands were around her throat, and he was slamming the woman into the kitchen wall.

"I don't like being threatened with fire, Mary," he intoned, his eyes boring into hers. "It makes me _angry_. And when I get angry, meddling old witches _die_."

As Stefan watched with a mixture of horror and fascination, the flames flickered and died down around the kitchen. Soon, he was able to walk into the room without fear of being set ablaze. He moved towards the table, watching Klaus choking Mary against the wall.

"Summoning spell?" Klaus asked conversationally, as though they were having a chat on a street corner, instead of a life-or-death confrontation in the witch's tiny kitchen. "Were we hoping for rescue, Mistress Mary? Quite contrary?"

He chuckled wetly. Stefan swallowed. "Let me go, Nicklaus," the woman said calmly, her words hoarse from the pressure on her throat.

"I think not," he returned. "I have a proposition for you, Mary McCullough. An offer you simply _can't_ refuse."

"Because you won't let me?"

"Such a wise old witch. Tell me, who were you summoning? An enemy of mine? All the ones that could have helped you are dead, you know."

Mary swallowed against his hands. Stefan watched her throat pulse against his palm. "You're hurting her," he breathed.

"Aw, Stefan," Klaus drawled. "What a sensitive creature you are. Tell me, are you still concerned for her welfare now?"

_Smack!_ Klaus's hand caught Mary on the mouth, knocking her head to the side. She blinked back fresh tears as blood dripped down her lip.

Stefan squeezed his eyes shut and fought for control. The fangs poked through his gums and the veins surfaced around his eyes. He felt the hunger burning in his throat and his control slipping through his fingers.

In a flash, he was on her, having raced across the room to sink his fangs into her flesh. The smell of sweet, coppery blood was so near, and his mouth watered at the prospect of tasting it.

Klaus caught him around the middle and flung him down onto the table, scattering bowls and candles all over the floor. Stefan struggled up against him, and Klaus raised his hand, striking a single blow to his cheek. It looked like a love tap, but it felt like a two-by-four. Stefan's head snapped to the right, blood filling his mouth, his face swelling from the impact. He was down.

"That's a _bad_ ripper," Klaus scolded with a smile. "Good rippers only eat what Klaus tells them to. Mistress Mary is off the menu… for _now_."

He turned back to the witch still cowered against the wall. Although Stefan could see terror in her eyes, her back was straight and her chin was tilted proudly towards the ceiling. She glared at Klaus as he inched back into her personal space.

"I will never help you," she announced. "I'll die first."

"Unfortunately for you," Klaus returned. "I've decided death is not an option."

Then he grabbed at the silver bracelet around her wrist and tore it from her, flinging it across the room. His eyes bored deep into hers. "You will come along with us," he said. "You will cast spells so we cannot be found. You will be a good witch and help me in every way you can."

"I will come with you," she repeated in a monotone. "I will cast spells so we cannot be found. I will be a good witch and help you in every way I can."

He grinned, stepping back from her and releasing her from the compulsion. "Glad to hear it," he said. "Tell me… how _did_ you know I was coming?"

Her eyes flitted towards a corner counter where a large, murky crystal was setting on a silver pedestal. Stefan's eyes widened and he stared at the witch in astonishment.

"Scrying in a crystal ball?" Klaus asked. He smirked and tapped her on the nose. "Cute. What a circus freak you are."

He turned his back on both his prisoners, gliding towards the kitchen door. "We're going now," he announced. "Everyone, single file. Quickly, out to the car."

Mary McCullough looked to be on the brink of tears, but she swallowed them back and dutifully gathered her leather bound Grimoire off the floor. Stefan swallowed, picking himself up off the table and following the other two out of the kitchen. His heart ached for the witch, but it mostly ached for himself.

He took a deep breath and thought about Elena.

* * *

><p>The sun was coming up, casting long gray shadows on the road and turning the sky pink. Fog rolled across the pavement and weaved in and out of the woods. Tyler hoped against hope that his mother had gone to bed soon after he'd left the house and never even noticed that he hadn't come home last night.<p>

Caroline sat beside him in her Focus, her fingers tight on the steering wheel and her eyes trained on the road. They were driving away from the Salvatore boarding house, down the long winding rural road that would take them back to the Lockwood mansion.

"I'm sorry," she said again. She just kept apologizing. "I'm really sorry, Tyler. Damon was being _such_ a dick…"

"For the last time, Caroline, drop it," he interrupted, trying not to sound irritated. "He's sick, his brother's missing… I get it. It's fine."

Silence filled the car. Tyler sighed after a while, running his hand through his hair. "I mean, I did bite him, so…"

"It's not your fault," Caroline said firmly. "You weren't in control. You didn't mean to do it."

Tyler didn't know how true that was. Sure, when he'd bitten Damon he'd been in the throes of his werewolf transformation, and not in control of his actions. To be honest, he barely even remembered doing it. Still, he'd been thinking about taking a bite out of Damon Salvatore ever since he'd learned Damon had killed Mason, and he wondered exactly how much all that hate and resentment had to do with the bite.

"Damon sucks so much sometimes," Caroline muttered. "I mean, I know he's sad and all that, but seriously? Attacking you? Throwing me into a wall… he totally ripped my brand new jeans. I'm going to kill him."

Tyler smiled slightly. She sighed and shook her head. "Whatever. We better find Stefan fast is all I can say. If we don't, Damon's just going to get worse, and I don't have the time or the resources to go running around town cleaning up after him. I'm not Stefan; I can't do it."

Her voice caught suddenly. Tyler turned his head in her direction and frowned at her. She bit her lip and swallowed noticeably, her eyes never leaving the road. He smirked at her, trying to lighten the mood.

"You're not going to cry again, are you?"

"Shut up, you jerk," she retorted, punching him in the arm. She laughed anyway, and Tyler did too, although his arm was throbbing with pain. He rubbed it, wincing a little. _Damn_, that was going to leave a bruise.

The car got quiet again. "Thanks, Tyler," she said suddenly. "For helping out tonight. It got messy really fast."

"No problem," he murmured. "You so owe me, though."

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and gave him a grin. "I'll buy you breakfast."

"Later. My mom is going to kill me."

Caroline laughed. "Isn't it so weird how we have to worry about our moms and our curfews? I mean, we spent the whole night chasing after vampire hunters, and then fighting with actual vampires… and now you're going to get home, and your mom's going to yell at you for being out too late. It sounds so silly."

He smiled again, looking down at his sneakers. Caroline sighed. They fell silent.

"Tyler?" she asked suddenly.

"Mm?"

"What happened with Damon… you, um… I mean… well, he didn't kick your ass."

Tyler laughed. "Um… thanks?"

"No, no, I was just saying… the full moon was a week ago, and you're still pretty strong. I mean, I know you're strong all the time, but compared to a vampire…"

"It was the wolf bite," he interrupted. "He was still kind of sick. I could tell. I caught him on an off day."

The silence fell again. Caroline was chewing her lip. Tyler looked out the window, hoping she wasn't going to bring up Damon again – or worse, Mason or Jules.

"Tyler, where did you go?"

The question caught him off his guard. Frowning, he looked over at her again. "What?"

"When you left," she clarified. "Where did you go?"

He didn't want to talk about the month he'd spent with Jules. It would just set her on edge again, the way every mention of Jules did. He wasn't going to blame her for hating the other werewolf. He wasn't going to be upset that he was the only one who cared Jules had died. Caroline was not required to comfort him over the death of someone who had treated her so badly. Still, he had been friends with Jules. That made her an off-limits topic of conversation when he was with Caroline.

"Around," he said evasively. "We kind of drifted. Why?"

He hadn't meant to sound so suspicious, but it came out that way anyhow. Caroline swallowed, shrugging. "I don't know. I mean, she must have helped you, right? Taught you some stuff?"

Tyler nodded, staring at the dashboard. "Sure."

"Did you meet other werewolves?"

He flexed his fingers, examining his knuckles. "A few."

"Did you stay with another wolf pack or anything…?"

"Nah. At least, not for very long."

She sighed, exasperated. Tyler rolled his eyes. Caroline turned to look at him. "Tyler, I know this is a touchy subject for us, but I really want to be able to…"

"Caroline, look out!"

The figure had appeared suddenly in the road, a vaguely humanoid shadow standing in the mists. Caroline whipped her head around and gave a tiny scream of surprise as she slammed on the brakes.

The car swerved off the road and into the ditch. A loud pop, followed by a grating hiss came from Caroline's side of the car as the tires rolled over the undergrowth on the side of the road. There was a sickening crunch when the car smacked into a tree. Tyler lurched forward as the car jolted to a stop, the seatbelt straining against his neck. Caroline collided with the steering wheel.

For a moment, nothing happened. No one moved; no one spoke. Tyler blinked a few times, trying to regain his bearings. Slowly, he reached up and rubbed his neck, straightening up in his seat. "Caroline?" he asked.

She groaned, her head still tilted against the steering wheel. His stomach leaped into his throat and he reached for her. "Caroline?" he demanded. "Are you all right?"

"My car!" she moaned, shaking her head as his hand found her shoulder. "Oh, my god, could this night suck _any_ more?"

His stomach settled and he breathed a little easier. "You're all right."

She looked at him with sad eyes. "Yes. For now. When my mom sees what I've done to my car, she'll stake me."

He was an idiot, Tyler decided. Of course she was all right. She was a freaking vampire. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is maybe the worst night of my life," she went on, shutting down the ignition. "Well… actually it's not. Because my life is that ridiculous."

"Technically," Tyler said, deadpan. "It's not night anymore."

"Whatever," Caroline grumbled, trying to open her door. It popped open a few inches and stuck, wedged between the car and the tree. "Damn it! I can't even get out!"

"Hold on," Tyler said, opening his door. He got out on slightly shaky legs, inhaling the damp morning air. Caroline clambered out of the driver's seat, struggling to climb over the console. Tyler reached in and grabbed her arms, steadying her as she stepped over the gearshift, and then helped her crawl the rest of the way out of the car.

She hopped down into the grass and straightened her clothes. "This sucks," she announced, stomping around to the other side of the car.

Tyler looked over his shoulder at the road, wondering where the shadowy figure had gone off to. He wasn't really all that worried about it – even if the figure was some sort of hillbilly serial killer, he was pretty sure the creep couldn't stand up to a werewolf and a vampire. Still, it bothered him to realize the figure that caused their car to crash was suddenly nowhere in sight.

Tyler rounded the front bumper of the Focus, coming to stand by Caroline, who was kneeling by her car. She sighed in relief. "Fortunately, this is nowhere near as bad as I thought it was going to be."

He looked at the car too. The paint had been scraped off the front end, and there was a dent in Caroline's door, but it was nothing that would affect the car's ability to start up again. Instead of slamming into the tree as he'd originally thought they had, they'd merely scraped up against it. Still, Caroline's front tire had run over something sharp, because now they were staring at a flat.

"We just need to change the tire and push my car out of the woods," Caroline went on cheerfully. He frowned at her bipolar shift in moods. "I mean, I'm a vampire, you're a werewolf… we can totally get this done."

"Yay," he said dryly. She rolled her eyes at him and stood up straight. Tyler looked around them again and sniffed at the air. His hairs were standing on end. There was a strange smell in the air, lingering underneath the damp earthy scent of the forest.

"You don't see the person who was in the road, do you?" he asked as Caroline walked behind her car.

"Nope," she said, opening the trunk with a playful smirk. "You smell any humans out here?"

"Cheap joke, Caroline."

She shrugged and began searching for the spare tire. Tyler could swear someone was watching them. He felt eyes on the back of his neck. Sniffing again, he detected the weird stench one more time. It smelled almost like decay, but not quite. It wasn't the sickly sweet funeral home smell he attributed to vampires, but it also wasn't the rotten flesh stench of dead human bodies. It was something in between.

"I think there's something out here, Caroline."

"So what if there is?" she retorted, shrugging carelessly. "I think we can handle it, Tyler. We're practically superheroes."

He raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her. Caroline hauled her spare tire out of her trunk. "Are you going to help me or not?" she asked.

Tyler rolled his eyes and came around the back of the car. "I think you meant super villains," he said with a smirk.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Car trouble?"

Tyler jumped at the sudden voice that sounded from behind them. Caroline squeaked and dropped her spare in the ditch. The two of them whirled around. Tyler's skin was tingling and his hands were curled into fists. He was ready to tear something apart.

A human figure stepped out of the fog. It was a teenage girl. She was tall and curvy, with long chestnut brown hair. Tyler swallowed at the familiar, seductive smirk on the girl's face. His fists uncurled. His mouth fell open. He froze up with shock.

"No," Caroline breathed beside him, her back hitting the Focus. "No, no, no… you're _dead_. I saw you… I _found_ you…"

"Vicki," Tyler choked out, silencing the vampire beside him.

Vicki ignored Caroline, all her attention focused on Tyler. The smirk grew and she tilted her head to the side, winking at him.

"Hey, Ty," she drawled. "Did you miss me?"

* * *

><p>On the edge of a swamp in Louisiana, there was a trailer parked in the long grass, still hitched to a large red pickup truck. It had been left under a scrubby looking tree, the swamp spanning out behind it. Crickets and frogs and cicadas made a symphony of noises that echoed throughout the night.<p>

In front of the truck and trailer was a baby blue El Camino, pocked with large red rust spots, and to the left of the old car was a small tent. Although it was still dark, the black sky was lightening up. Dawn would come in an hour.

Inside the trailer, a woman with long dark hair suddenly sat straight up in her bed with a loud gasp, her green eyes popping wide open.

For a moment, she sat still in bed, listening to the sounds of the swamp. She closed her eyes and concentrated, breathing in deeply through her nose. Finally, she climbed out of bed and slipped into a pair of sweatpants. She swung open the trailer door and stepped down into the tall grass, picking her way over to the tent.

When she unzipped the tent flap, the people sleeping inside started awake. A young girl and a boy only a few years older sat up inside the tent, blinking identical sleepy brown eyes at her. The girl scratched at her long mess of tangled blonde hair.

"Sybil?" she asked. "What the hell? The sun ain't even up."

"We're leaving," Sybil replied with an accent to her voice. "Get up and get ready. I want to be on the road in under an hour."

The girl exchanged a look with the boy. "You going to tell us where we're going?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

The wind blew through the long grass and ruffled the tent flap. Sybil tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes as though listening to the breeze.

"Virginia."


	4. Thriller

On the Origin of Species

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I am not associated with anything _Vampire Diaries_, and I make no profit off this fan fiction. Also, I stole the title from Charles Darwin. Don't sue, please… I've got nothing but some pocket change and a car that won't start.

Summary: After Elijah's betrayal, another Original comes to Mystic Falls to kill the hybrid, and discovers that history is about to repeat itself. Set post season 2 finale. Forwood first and foremost, but I love all the other characters and their relationships too much not to play with those too… and those could end up going anywhere.

AN: Big thanks to andsoitis, TVDfantasy13, txgirl0302, penguinsrpals, David Fishwick, JYLlian, Bee03, DD, LizzieBee011, and AllCreator for the reviews!

* * *

><p>Chapter 3: Thriller<p>

Tyler swallowed, his eyes fixed on Vicki Donovan, not moving from his spot behind Caroline's car. Vicki smirked, and took another step forward.

"You smell different," she commented offhand. "You're not human anymore, huh?"

Tyler's shoulders tensed. "Nope."

"Yeah. Mystic Falls, huh? Place will do that to you."

Vicki tilted her head in Caroline's direction. She frowned. "You don't smell human either. You smell like a vampire. Tyler doesn't – but you do."

She moved towards Caroline. "Vicki," Caroline murmured. "I don't know what's going on, but…"

"And I do?" Vicki retorted. "I was dead like five hours ago. Now I'm strolling down the street, back among the sort of living. It's pretty freaky. Awesome, but freaky. How'd it happen? Was it Damon? Did Damon turn you?"

Caroline swallowed. "Sort of. It's… complicated."

"Complicated, huh? I guess Stefan let _you_ live. He staked me, but he let you live. How come? Were you a good girl, Caroline? Did you keep your fangs to yourself?"

"You were a vampire?" Caroline asked incredulously.

Vicki laughed. "They didn't tell you? Wow. I think somebody's out of the loop."

"Vicki," Tyler spoke up, his voice low. "_How_ are you _here_?"

"Don't know. Think witchcraft was involved. All I know is that I'm _starving_. Guess I'm a vampire again. At least, I've got the strength and the speed and the other stuff, so I must be." Vicki shrugged, taking another step closer. Tyler tensed up. "Hey," she grinned, her voice going all soft and seductive. He winced at the familiar tone, remembering late nights in the woods, in her house, in the back of his car... "I'm _so_ glad to see you again, Ty."

Tyler swallowed. "You are?"

"Sure I am," she cooed, taking another step forward. Her eyes turned cold. "You were pretty mean to me when we were human. Do you remember that Tyler? How you used me and tossed me aside?"

Tyler kept staring at her. "I remember."

"I'll bet you do," she drawled, smirking again. "You should. But let's make sure you _never _forget. Let's make sure you _pay_ for it."

"You leave him alone."

Caroline's voice was steady. Tyler glanced at her, surprised. She glared at Vicki, who laughed out loud.

"_You're_ going to stick up for _Tyler_?" Vicki asked. "Wow. Things change, huh? You two used to hate each other."

"No we didn't," Caroline retorted. "We were friends. Just… not great ones."

Her voice faltered. Tyler raised an eyebrow at her. Vicki chuckled. "You know, Caroline? I really hope I don't kill you. You are so much funnier now than when I was alive."

Caroline lifted her chin. "You should leave," she said, jerking her head at the other girl. "Now."

Vicki laughed again. "Caroline Forbes, getting all aggressive on me? Ooh, I'm scared now. Do me a favor – get the hell out of here, and deliver a message from me to the Salvatore brothers."

Tyler saw Caroline tense up at Vicki's comment. Somehow, probably without even knowing it, the other girl had struck a nerve. "Not a chance," Caroline replied with a stony glare. "I am _no one's_ messenger girl – not anymore."

"Whatever," Vicki snorted, unimpressed. "If you see Damon, just let him know he's going to suffer for what he did to me. And tell Stefan I'm pissed about being killed, and I'm going to kill him back."

"Tell them yourself," Caroline snapped.

"Maybe I'll have to," Vicki grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Seeing as you won't just get the hell out of here and let me deal with Tyler. Guess I'm killing you both."

"Go ahead and try," Caroline shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I can take you."

Tyler was worried. Caroline could kick his ass – he knew, because she'd already done it twice that he remembered – and he could kick most other things' asses, but when it came to Vicki, he didn't know what to think. She said she was a vampire again, but Tyler didn't buy it. She smelled different than Caroline, Damon and Stefan. She smelled like rot and dirt, but mostly she just smelled wrong. Every whiff of her scent made his skin crawl.

Vicki stepped closer and he actually growled. His fists clenched at his sides, his eyes flashed gold, and his chest vibrated with a deep warning rumble. He hated himself the moment it happened. He sounded like a goddamn Doberman.

She blinked in surprise. Then she laughed. "Did you just growl at me?"

Caroline was staring at him too. Tyler glared at both of them. "Back off," he warned the newly resurrected ex-vampire.

Vicki laughed again, and then she flashed a parody of her old sexy smile. "The last time I said that to you, you completely ignored me. Kept right on doing whatever you wanted. God, you were _such_ a dick. Has anything changed at all?"

Honestly? Yeah, everything had changed, but Tyler doubted that mattered to her now. Hell, it barely mattered to him. She was right. He had been _such_ a dick to her. Looking back at the crap he'd pulled back then, he could easily admit that little punk Jeremy Gilbert was the better man.

"Vicki," Caroline said softly. He was surprised at the change in her voice, and so was Vicki, from the astonished look she directed at the blonde. "I know he didn't treat you so great back then, but he's matured a lot."

"Shut up, Caroline. Nobody asked you."

"I get it," Caroline insisted. "When I dated Damon, he was a dick to me too, but…"

"You _get_ it?" Vicki interrupted viciously. "You don't _get_ anything, you shallow, self-centered little twit!"

Caroline blinked at the jibe, looking stung. The comment had hit her where she lived. Still, she swallowed down whatever she was feeling and hardened her eyes. "I get a lot more than you think I do."

Vicki rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Caroline. I'm bored now."

Suddenly, she was a blur of denim and brown hair, flying through the fog and slamming her body into Tyler's. He heard her snarling like a rabid wild animal as his body hit the ground. Her teeth, long and white and pointy, flashed in front of his eyes. Tyler's hands found her throat and he held her head up above his neck, where she was desperately trying to sink her fangs.

There was a blur of blonde hair, and then the burden of Vicki's weight was knocked off his body. Caroline tackled the other girl to the side, and the two of them rolled around in the mud and grass, Vicki still snarling, and Caroline hissing. Tyler rolled over on his side and hauled himself out of the ditch.

Caroline got a good kick in and sent Vicki flying into the road. She leapt onto her feet as Vicki's back made contact with the asphalt. Seconds later, Vicki was on her feet too, glaring and snarling at both of them.

There was something wrong with her eyes, Tyler realized. She still had her fangs and her eyes had changed, but she no longer had the red, vein-y eyes he associated with vampires. The irises and pupils had disappeared, leaving her with large, milky white eyes that stared blankly back at him.

Vicki tilted her head to the side, staring at him with her empty eyes, and smiled with her long, sharp teeth. Tyler swallowed, his nails digging into his palms as he stared his ex-girlfriend down.

She flew at him again, and he braced himself for the impact. Caroline rushed in from the side and propelled herself into Vicki, so they both collided with the back of her car. Vicki shrieked as Caroline sank her fangs into her throat.

Suddenly, it was Caroline screaming instead of Vicki. As Tyler watched wide eyed, Caroline released the other girl and stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. She coughed and choked, spitting up Vicki's blood. Tyler gaped at her, frozen in shock, his eyes darting towards Vicki. She stared at the vampire with her mouth wide open in horror, clutching her bleeding neck.

Tyler shook his head, snapping out of it, and raced for the nearest tree at an inhuman speed, his surroundings flying by in a murky green blur. He snapped off a large branch as easily as if it had been a twig. Vicki turned at the noise, but was seconds too late. Tyler drove the makeshift stake into her heart.

Vicki fell to her knees, gasping. Tyler ran to Caroline's side and plopped down next to her in the ditch, lifting her off the ground. "Caroline!" he exclaimed, grabbing her face in his hands. She blinked at him, still choking.

"Oh my god," she coughed. "She tastes _terrible_."

He stared at her. Caroline tried to smile at him, but suddenly she was choking all over again. Unsure what to do, Tyler pulled her into his lap and rubbed her back, his hand moving up and down her spine as she spat blood into the ditch, staring at her with wide, horrified eyes.

"What the _fuck_?"

He jumped, looking up at Vicki's voice. She was pissed, and still on her knees, her hands grasping the branch in her chest. "_Ow_," she practically whined. "That freaking hurt."

Tyler gaped at her, both shocked and hating himself. Had he seriously _missed_ her heart? Vicki winced, yanking the stake out of her torso, and tossed it to the side.

"Right through my heart," she said, shaking her head. "Guess some things don't change."

He swallowed, instinctively clutching Caroline against his chest. "You should be dead," he said stupidly.

"I know, right?" Vicki replied, getting to her feet. "That was weird."

"I drove a wooden stake through your _heart_."

Vicki looked as freaked out as he felt. "Yeah, I felt it, you tool."

He shook his head. She wasn't on attack mode. Instead, she was just standing by Caroline's car in shock. Her eyes had returned to normal and her fangs had been retracted.

"Why aren't you dead?" Tyler demanded. "What the hell are you?"

She shook her head, her eyes welling up with tears. Tyler almost felt bad – _almost_. "I don't know," she whispered.

"Vicki," Caroline rasped suddenly, lifting her head. "Please. I know you're scared and confused right now, but maybe we can help you."

The other girl stared at her with big wet eyes. For a moment, Tyler thought she was going to accept the offer. But then Vicki shook her head, backing away. "I don't want your help!" she spat.

Tyler tensed up, his eyes burning holes into Vicki, expecting her to attack again. She didn't. Instead she turned into a brunette streak, running as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

He stared after her. Caroline shifted in his arms and Tyler looked down at her, frowning. "Are you ok?" he asked.

She nodded, spitting one last time. "Yeah, I think so."

Tyler got to his feet and took Caroline's arms, lifting her off the ground. She leaned on him slightly, and he tightened his grip. "I'm _fine_, Tyler," she said, rolling her eyes.

"What the hell happened, Caroline?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Her blood… it just… it _burned._"

Tyler blinked. "It _burned_?"

"Yeah. I mean, there was also this weird taste, like… like it went bad. You know? Sour milk, or bad meat, or… I don't know, it just burned."

"Like there was vervain in it, or…?"

"No, not like vervain. Like… it was just bad blood, ok? I can't really describe it."

Tyler stared at her, officially freaked out. Not that he hadn't been freaked out before, but now it was official. Caroline shrugged it off, giving him a bright smile that didn't entirely reach her eyes. "Look, it doesn't matter. We have to change my tire and get my car out of the woods, and then we have to get you home before your mother calls my mother and demands she put together a search party."

He frowned, feeling a pang of guilt about all the worry he'd been causing his mother lately. Still, he shoved it aside, focusing on what seemed like the more important issue. "Caroline, Vicki just came back from the dead."

"I know. I was there."

"She tried to kill us, and her blood made you sick."

"Yep."

"Her eyes were all white and weird looking. Also, the stake I put through her heart? Didn't kill her."

"I know. It's a problem."

Yeah, it was a huge problem, which was why Tyler couldn't understand how Caroline could stand there so calmly and only worry about getting him home to his mother. "What are we supposed to do?" he asked.

She sighed. "I don't know. So I'm focusing on what I _do_ know, which is that my car needs to be fixed and you need to be home. Let's just take care of that, and then I'll call Bonnie and hopefully catch a few hours sleep before I have to run off and stop the apocalypse, or whatever the hell is going on around here."

"What's Bonnie going to do?"

"She's a witch. She'll do… witchy things."

Tyler stared at her again, raising an eyebrow.

"Stop looking at me like that," Caroline ordered. "Will you please just help me change my tire?"

He stared at her a moment longer. Then he sighed harshly and stomped around to the back of her Focus, snatching the tire iron from the back and hauling the spare out of the ditch.

She jumped when he tossed the tire by her feet. He was irritated, and maybe a little bit scared. Ok, a lot scared. Every time he turned around, something terrible he'd done had come back to bite him in the ass. Accidentally kill a girl and suddenly you're a werewolf. Treat your old girlfriend like a sex toy, and six months later she comes back from the dead and tries to rip you apart.

He deserved it. There was no denying that. Karma was a bitch.

Maybe he was twisting the tire iron too hard, but he didn't care. Caroline was staring at him as he undid the bolts at a record speed. When the bolts were loosened, he threw the tire iron aside.

It flew several feet into the trees. Damn it. Stupid werewolf strength.

Tyler cussed and kicked the flat tire. Then he marched off into the woods to retrieve the tire iron.

When he came back with the iron in hand, Caroline had removed all the bolts and was waiting for him. "Hey, can you lift up the car?" she asked.

He dropped the tire iron and did as requested, lifting the car's back end off the ground as easily as he would have lifted a television set. Caroline quickly removed the flat and put on the spare. He lowered the car back on even ground, and she began twisting the bolts back into place.

When it was time to use the tire iron again and tighten the bolts, Caroline was the one to do it. It was just as easy for her as it had been for him, and she did it just as quickly, but without all the angry jerking and muttering. She also didn't pitch her tools into the forest when she was done.

While he loaded the trunk for her, Caroline leaned against the car with her arms folded over her chest. He glanced up at her every once and a while, but her eyes were on the tree they'd crashed into.

"Tyler?" she asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Was that tree dead when I ran into it?"

He looked up at the tree in question, startled by what she'd asked. Sure enough, the tall oak tree was dead. The leaves had shriveled up and were falling to the ground, wilted and brown. The branches were mostly bare now, and there was a pile of dead leaves at the roots. He was almost positive that when they'd first gotten out of the car, the tree hadn't looked like that.

Tyler glanced all around him, cold fear gripping his stomach again. The grass where the fight had taken place had drooped over and turned black. The trees lining the road were wilting too, and the few small bushes interspersed throughout were losing their spiny little leaves.

"No," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "It wasn't."

They were silent again. After he finished packing up everything and the two of them had pushed the car out of the ditch and back on the road, Tyler found himself in the passenger seat again, glowering out the windshield and drumming his fingers on the door.

"It's ok, Tyler," Caroline said.

"No it's not," he snapped. "I suck."

To his surprise, she giggled. He glared at her instead of the road. "Sorry," she apologized quickly, trying to arrange her face in a serious expression. She failed.

"It's not funny, Caroline."

"I know. I'm sorry."

He kept frowning at her, and she offered him a small, understanding smile. "You don't suck," she told him.

Tyler sighed, banging his head against the back of his seat. "Yes, I do. I treated her like crap. She was right; I was a dick. And I didn't even feel bad about it until…" His voice caught, but he swallowed it down, and motored on through. "Until she went missing."

Caroline didn't say anything right away. She stared at the road, slowly navigating all the twisty curves, obviously not in the mood for another accident. "But you did," she said after a while. "You did feel bad."

"Big deal. Doesn't change anything."

"I think it does."

He glowered at the windshield again and said nothing.

"You're not the same person now that you were back then," Caroline said. "Just like I'm not the same person now that _I_ was back then. We've grown up, Tyler."

_We've_ grown up. It always made him feel better when she said we. Except this time, he didn't feel better. He was still pissed at himself and totally freaked out.

"It doesn't matter to her," he pointed out. "How the hell did this even happen?"

She shook her head. "I don't know."

They fell silent. Tyler rubbed his head, his fingers twitching. "I kind of feel bad for her," Caroline said suddenly.

He blinked at her. "She tried to kill you."

Caroline shrugged. "Sometimes, you try to kill me too," she reminded him, smiling.

Tyler was not amused. He glared at her, and her smirk faded. "She looked so confused," Caroline murmured. "Scared. Lost. I don't know… I've been there before. So have you."

He didn't answer right away. When he did, he decided to gloss over her last comment and address a different issue that was pressing at his mind. "All the plants," he said. "They were dead."

She nodded.

"Why?" he asked.

Caroline shrugged. "I don't know."

"But it can't be good, right?"

It was her turn to hesitate. "No," she said after a while. "Probably not."

They didn't speak the rest of the way to his house. When they pulled into the drive, he wasn't sure he wanted to get out of the car. "You'll be ok, right?" he asked. "Her blood didn't… it won't…"

"What?" she interrupted, laughing. "Poison me? I'll be fine."

He nodded. She smiled at him. "I'll call you once I talk to Bonnie," Caroline promised.

"Ok," he agreed.

When he walked through the front door, his mother was waiting for him. She wore her long silky white bathrobe, her hair up, and if wasn't for her cast, she'd have had her arms folded confrontationally over her chest. She was tapping her foot and her face was pinched with annoyance.

"And where have _you_ been?" she demanded.

Tyler sighed and ran his hand through his hair. So much for getting some sleep.

* * *

><p>Caroline was bone tired, but that didn't matter at the moment. Once she'd called Bonnie and explained the situation, Bonnie had told her to grab a few hours sleep and then meet her at the Gilbert house. She'd sounded deadly calm, which had set Caroline immediately on edge. Ever since this business with Klaus had started, that had been Bonnie's way of coping. She'd clam up and put her serious face on, determined to do what had to be done. The worse the situation, the calmer she was.<p>

She'd barely slept after that conversation. Four hours later, she was standing on her front porch, waiting for Tyler's car to pull into the drive.

Bonnie had been hesitant to include the werewolf in whatever the hell was going on, but Caroline had insisted. "I don't know why Vicki's back, Bonnie," she'd told her. "But she came after Tyler, which makes him involved no matter what. So he's coming with me."

Then she'd heard Jeremy's voice in the background, telling Bonnie that Tyler should come along too, and Bonnie had relented.

Tyler's truck turned into the drive, and Caroline rushed to the passenger side. "Hey," she greeted him, climbing into the cab with a cheerful smile she didn't feel.

"Hey," he grunted. He looked and sounded exhausted. Caroline crinkled her nose in sympathy.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

He just raised his eyebrow at her.

"Right," she nodded, lowering her eyes to the floor of the truck. "Stupid question."

Tyler shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. "My mom was waiting for me when I got in," he explained. "She wasn't happy."

Caroline cringed. "Sorry."

"I'm grounded."

"What?" Caroline asked, frowning at him. "But… you're out. With me."

"Yeah," he agreed, giving her a smirk. "My mom's never grounded me before. I don't think she fully understands the concept."

Caroline laughed.

"So what did Bonnie say?" he wanted to know.

Caroline sighed. "Not much. I think it has something to do with a spell she did."

"What kind of spell?"

She sucked in air through her teeth, crinkling up her nose. "Well… my mom sort of shot Jeremy…"

"_What?"_

"By accident. She was aiming for Damon."

"Your mom shot Jeremy."

"Yeah. Um… he might have… ok, he died."

Tyler's eyes bugged out of his head. "But he's fine now!" Caroline hastened to explain. "Bonnie… she had to do a spell to bring him back. See, Jeremy has this, like, magic ring, and it protects him from supernatural stuff… like if you or I were to kill him, the ring would bring him back."

Tyler was shaking his head, his face screwed up incredulously. "Magic ring…"

"But since it was my mom, and she's human, he _died_ died, and then Bonnie took him out to the old witches settlement… you remember, I told you about that right? Anyway, she and Ric took him out there, and Bonnie did a spell and it brought Jeremy back, but she told me the witches said there would be consequences…"

"Wait, what other witches?"

"The ghosts at the old settlement. Keep up, Tyler. Anyway, they said there would be consequences. Then Jeremy saw Vicki and Anna last night…"

"Vicki came to him too?"

Caroline nodded. "Yep."

"Did she try to kill _him_?"

"Nope. Just you."

Tyler sighed, sounding harassed. "Of course."

"Anyway, they came to see him last night, and then they disappeared… after being majorly cryptic, apparently…"

"Wait. Who's Anna?"

"Jeremy's ex-girlfriend. Don't you remember her? She went to our high school for a few weeks? She was a vampire? Her mother was going to buy the old Gilbert doctor's office…"

Tyler's face lit up with recognition. "Tiny little Asian girl?"

Caroline nodded. "That's the one. Anyway, they disappeared almost immediately, and apparently Bonnie, Jeremy, and Ric have been up all night trying to figure out why they came back at all. Bonnie thinks they're the consequences."

"The consequence for bringing Jeremy back to life is resurrecting his ex-girlfriends too?"

"Well, it kind of makes sense. Bonnie has competition for his heart now, right? And if Anna's as freaky looking as Vicki was…"

Tyler shook his head. "So they're zombies?"

Caroline blinked at him. "Why would you think that?"

Tyler laughed out loud. "Have you ever read a comic book? Or seen a movie? She had creepy white eyes and she was trying to kill us and she used to be _dead_. Oh, and her blood made you sick. Oh, and everywhere she goes, she leaves a trail of dead plants."

To be perfectly honest, Caroline had never read a comic book, and she rarely watched horror movies. She vaguely remembered Matt begging her to go see some stupid zombie move with him, but she hadn't – if she had, she didn't remember. Caroline shrugged, wrinkling her brow. "Why would the witches send zombies as a consequence?"

"Zombie apocalypse, Caroline? _Dawn of the Dead_, _Zombieland_, _28 Days Later_…"

She stared blankly at him. He laughed again. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, shaking his head.

"There's nothing wrong with me! _I'm_ normal. You're the one who knows way too much about zombies."

Tyler was pulling into the Gilbert's driveway. "So, zombie apocalypse," Caroline murmured as he parked the truck. "That's like… what? The movies where everyone gets the zombie disease, and they bite people, and the people they bite turn into zombies too…"

He nodded. "That's right."

She swallowed, her hand going to her throat. "I had her blood in my mouth," she murmured, feeling her hand shake slightly. "What if… can that…?"

"Hey," he said, his hand resting on her shoulder. "Calm down, Caroline. You're not going to turn into a zombie. Ok?"

She looked at him. He was smirking at her, like her sudden concern about becoming a zombie was completely ridiculous. She glared at him for a moment, until she realized exactly what they were talking about. _Zombies_.

Suddenly, she giggled. "Oh my god," she snorted. "I was worried about… oh my god."

Caroline laughed out loud, tilting her head back against the seat. She knew she sounded hysterical, but she couldn't help it. He stared at her for a moment, and then he started laughing too. Their laughter echoed around the cab of the truck, and for a few minutes, Caroline felt happier than she had in over a month.

She realized that over a month ago was actually when Tyler left town. If she wasn't so busy having a hysterical laughter attack, the idea might have bothered her. Still, she knew she'd been happy when he'd been around. At first, she'd helped him with his transformation for selfish reasons. Damon and Stefan wanted her to keep an eye on him. Then he had looked so lost, alone, and afraid, and all she could think about was how afraid she'd been back when she'd first turned. She'd _had_ to help him. And then… well, it turned out he wasn't so bad to be around. He wasn't the total dick he'd been before. Against Damon's advice, she'd truly become his friend. And after he'd left town, she'd _missed_ him. She'd missed her friend.

When they'd finally stopped laughing, Caroline shook her head and glanced at the Gilbert house. "What if they are zombies?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I mean… I'm a werewolf, so… not a whole lot surprises me anymore."

Caroline nodded in agreement. "I know exactly what you mean."

"Let's just go in."

She nodded again. "Ok."

They clambered out of the truck and walked up to the front door. Caroline walked in without bothering to knock, Tyler on her heels. "Hello?" she called. "Bonnie? Jeremy?"

"Hey guys," Jeremy's voice sounded from the top of the stairs. She looked up, seeing him saunter down the steps. "Here to work zombie detail?"

"I told you," Tyler said to Caroline. "Zombies."

Caroline glared at him, and then looked back at Jeremy. "Where's everyone else?"

"Kitchen. Come on."

She followed Jeremy into the kitchen. He looked a little too relaxed for a guy who'd been shot to death the night before and then visited by two dead ex-girlfriends. She frowned at the back of his gray tee shirt.

Bonnie and Ric were sitting around the island, which was piled high with musty old texts and journals. Ric was cradling a glass filled with scotch, which he tilted in their direction without saying a word. "Hey," Caroline said.

"Hi, Care," Bonnie greeted her, barely looking up from her Grimoire.

"So," she said, taking a seat on the stool across from Bonnie. "Have we gotten anywhere yet?"

"Zombies," Alaric announced, taking a sip of his drink.

Tyler sat down on the stool beside her and raised an infuriatingly superior eyebrow at her. She briefly stuck her tongue out at him and then turned to Ric. "Seriously?" she asked. "Zombies?"

He shrugged. "If you've got a better theory, please, by all means, lay it on us."

"Bonnie?" Caroline asked.

She shrugged too. "I'm not seeing anything in either Grams' or Emily's Grimoire. The spell was risky and not a lot of people have attempted it. No one's written anything about unintended side effects."

"By not a lot of people," Ric spoke up, his voice dripping with irony. "She means no one at all."

Bonnie glared at him.

"Leave her alone, Ric," Jeremy yawned. He idly turned a page in the book he was standing over.

"You certainly weren't trying to stop me last night," Bonnie added coldly. "I believe your exact words were: 'He's just a kid. Tell them to shut up.'"

He shrugged. "I meant it, too. Just saying; if someone _had_ attempted this spell before, don't you think zombies would have been included in the fine print?"

"We don't know they're zombies," Bonnie sighed tiredly.

"But we don't know they aren't, either."

Jeremy yawned again, shutting the book. "I say we Google this. Type in all the symptoms and see what we get."

"What?" Tyler asked, speaking for the first time. "Like weird white eyes and fangs and poisonous blood? Hope WebMD has an entry for zombie disease?"

"Poisonous blood?" Bonnie asked with her eyebrow raised suspiciously.

Caroline swallowed. When she'd explained about Vicki to Bonnie, she'd mentioned the eyes and the fangs and the dead plants, but conveniently left out the bit about poisonous blood.

"Maybe we should go to the library," she suggested in a half-hearted attempt to change the subject.

"Caroline," Bonnie said in a warning voice. "What's Tyler talking about?"

Caroline glared at Tyler. He frowned at her. "You didn't say anything?" he asked.

"It's not a big deal," she replied.

"Yeah, it kind of is," Jeremy spoke up, frowning at her too. "We need to know everything we can about what Vicki and Anna are so we can help them."

"I'm waiting for you to tell me what happened, Caroline," Bonnie said, eyes boring holes into Caroline's skull. Caroline sighed, feeling harassed.

"Like I said, it's no big deal," she insisted. "Vicki was attacking Tyler, so I bit her. Her blood just… tasted really bad."

Tyler scoffed and gave her an annoyed look. "It made her sick," he said.

"I was just trying to spit it out."

"You said it burned."

She glared at him, hoping her expression read 'shut the hell up Tyler'. He just glared back, his expression something along the lines of "what the hell are you doing, Caroline?'

"Her blood burned you?" Bonnie asked, the concern obvious in her voice. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Caroline replied. "I'm all better now. It was just weird, that's all. It tasted like it had gone bad, and it left this weird burning feeling in my mouth."

"Gone bad?" Ric repeated. "What, like expired milk?"

Caroline nodded. "Kind of."

"You said the wooden stake didn't kill her either," Bonnie murmured. "Ok, so we've got white eyes, fangs, burning blood, and immunity to wooden stakes through the heart. So…"

She trailed off and shook her head, rubbing her temples. "This is impossible."

"Don't say that, Bonnie," Caroline reassured her, patting her arm. "I'm sure if we just look in the right place, we'll find something. Maybe there's something in the Salvatore library."

"Or maybe we should go back to the witches' settlement and ask them what the hell they're playing at," Alaric smirked, draining his glass. Caroline frowned at him.

"I'm not going back yet," Bonnie murmured. "They were… _very_ angry with me."

Caroline watched her friend shudder at the memory. "Angry witches or not," Alaric pressed unsympathetically. "We need to know what the hell is going on here, Bonnie, so we can find a way to kill the apparently un-killable zombie girls."

"Whoa, wait a second," Jeremy exclaimed. "We're not killing Anna and Vicki, all right? We just need to find a way to help them."

Tyler scoffed again. "Screw that," he said. "Vicki tried to kill Caroline and me. I'm not helping her."

"Like you didn't deserve it," Jeremy spat angrily.

"Maybe I did," Tyler retorted. "That doesn't mean I'm just going to take it."

"Everyone stop," Caroline intervened. "Ok? We don't even know what's going on yet. I think we're getting ahead of ourselves."

Silence followed. Then Bonnie sighed and grabbed her bag and her Grimoire. "I've got to go," she announced. "I told Elena I'd come over to the boarding house and cast a tracking spell."

Caroline's stomach turned. "Stefan's still missing?" she asked.

Bonnie nodded. "I'll fill Elena and Damon in while I'm there," she went on. "Maybe Damon's run into something like this before."

She kissed Jeremy's cheek. "I'll be back," she said, heading towards the front door.

"See you later, Bon!" Jeremy called after her.

The front door shut with a quiet click. Caroline sighed, staring at the mountain of books in front of her. "Where'd all this come from?" she asked.

Jeremy pointed at Alaric by way of answering. "I'll be right back," he added. "I'm going to get my laptop and search engine this stuff. I don't care what Bonnie says about witchcraft and the internet… so far, these old books aren't getting us anywhere."

He headed off in the direction of the stairs. Alaric groaned and got to his feet too. "I need another drink," he muttered, heading off for the liquor cabinet in the dining room.

Caroline sighed and stared at the pile of books in front of her. Then she picked the smallest one in the pile and flipped it open.

"Why didn't you tell Bonnie?"

She jumped at Tyler's voice. When she turned to him, he was staring at her in that way of his – with the big dark brooding eyes and the not-quite blank expression that she could not figure out, not for the life of her.

Caroline shrugged. "Didn't seem important."

He snorted. "Bull."

"Will you just shut up and read?"

He snatched one of the books out of the pile and slammed it down on the counter, flipping it open with a vicious twist of the wrist. Caroline flinched at the loud noise, and then rolled her eyes at his predictable werewolf temper.

She didn't want anyone to worry about her. Everyone was worried about so many things already. Besides, the reminder of Vicki's burning blood scared her, even before the zombie talk in Tyler's truck.

What if the blood did do something to her? What if it killed her slowly, the way werewolf bites did, or turned her into a zombie? She'd already been turned into a vampire; she didn't want to be a zombie on top of everything else.

Caroline took a deep breath, and forced herself to be rational. Of course she wasn't going to be a zombie. That was stupid.

Alaric came back from the dining room, refilled glass in hand. Seconds later, Jeremy returned with his laptop and set up camp at the kitchen island.

"You won't find anything," Alaric told him. "Not anything we can use."

"We'll use it as a jumping off point," Jeremy retorted.

Alaric snorted into his scotch, but didn't press the issue. Caroline tried to focus on the book in front of her, but the words kept swimming.

She was exhausted and she was annoyed. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

><p>Damon groaned and rubbed his eyes, rolling over on his back in bed. The sunlight streamed in through the curtains on his window, hurting his eyes. He slowly sat up, every joint in his body aching, and his throat itching with a craving for blood.<p>

The door squeaked open and Elena appeared at the threshold, a mug of blood in her hand. "Hungry?" she asked.

He sighed, and leaned against his headboard. "Sure."

She handed him the mug and he took a sip. "Did you sleep at all last night?" he asked, unable to keep the insensitive edge out of his voice. "You look worse than I do."

Elena shrugged and took a seat at the foot of the bed. Damon took a larger gulp of the blood. "Hear from my baby brother the martyr?" he pressed, his tone bitter.

"He's not answering the phone," Elena said softly. "And he's not replying to my texts."

Damon shrugged, drinking from the mug again. "What did you expect?" he retorted. "Stefan's gone, Elena, and he's not coming back."

Elena glared at him. "Don't talk like that."

"Why the hell not? It's his own fault. He had to go play hero, even though everyone told him to leave it alone. I'm an evil son of a bitch, and I was finally going to be out of his life after a century of causing him nothing but misery, when all of a sudden he caught nostalgia for the good old pre-Katherine days. Well, that's his own damn problem. Forget about him."

"Stop being so mean," Elena snapped, getting off his bed. "He did this for _you_, Damon. You don't get to talk about him that way."

"Just get the hell out of my house, Elena."

"It's _my_ house."

"That's a situation that can be very easily remedied."

"Damon."

"I said _get out_!"

His mug shattered against the far wall of the bedroom as his shout echoed through the house. Elena flinched, taking a step towards the door. Then her back straightened and she lifted her chin defiantly. Damon glared at her moodily as she stared him down, her eyes boring into his. She didn't flinch again. He tore his eyes away from hers, glaring at the window.

"Bonnie will be here soon," Elena told him, her voice too calm. "She said she'd do a locator spell. We'll need your help – she'll want to use some of your blood."

Damon snorted and crossed his arms. "What a waste of time."

"Damon."

"_Elena_," he mocked her. "It's a waste of time. Stefan doesn't want to be found."

"No," Elena returned. "Klaus doesn't want Stefan to be found. If we could find a way to help Stefan, to stop Klaus…"

"Oh, yes," Damon laughed bitterly. "A way to stop the unstoppable werepire. Good luck with that one."

The room was silent. He could feel Elena glaring at him, but he didn't care. He even knew that he was being the worst brother in all of mankind right now, but he didn't give a damn about that either. He wanted to be left alone to wallow, drink, and maybe bite some unsuspecting human types.

No, he didn't want to do that either. He didn't want to do anything but lay in his bed and be miserable. His brother had given up _everything_ to save his life. He wasn't worth any of that. Stefan's life was worth so much more than his. Even Elena and her big pitying eyes and unwavering strength in the face of loss – _one loss right after another_ – was not making him feel better. He wanted her out of his house.

He heard the door creak open downstairs. "Bonnie's here," he informed his brother's girlfriend.

Elena left the room without a word. She was disappointed in him; he could feel it. He hated that. The only thing he hated more than Elena's disappointment was the fact that he cared about Elena's disappointment.

Sighing, he rolled out of bed and followed her downstairs.

Bonnie and Elena were waiting for him in the main room, setting up the necessary items on his coffee table in preparation for the spell. Damon sauntered into the room as Bonnie began lighting the candles.

"Witch," he greeted her.

"Damon," she returned, not even sparing him a glance.

The absence of pity in her voice made him feel better, strangely enough. She still had the same contempt for him, tempered only by a grudging respect that came out of working together to save Elena. The normalcy of it all distracted him from his melancholy.

"What if Stefan's not in the country anymore?" Elena asked Bonnie. "What if Klaus took him out of the States?"

Damon came closer, noticing the map of the continental U.S. sitting on the table. Bonnie sighed, forcing a smile for her best friend. "We have other maps," she said, an encouraging note in her voice that didn't reach her worried green eyes. "We'll just try it again."

He snorted loudly, making his way over to the bar. "_Great_ plan, Bonnie," he drawled, pouring himself some scotch. "Let's all play hocus-pocus with the world atlas. I'm sold."

"Do you have a better idea, Damon?" Bonnie asked coldly. Her eyes bored into the side of his head, brimming with annoyance.

"Yeah, actually I do," Damon retorted, sniffing his drink. "Let's give up."

He smirked, winked, and threw back a gulp of scotch.

"We are _not_ giving up," Elena said stonily. "We have to find Stefan. And if you'd stop being a complete ass for three seconds, I think you'd realize that you want to find Stefan too."

"Nah," Damon returned, pacing the room. "I never really liked him all that much. He took up too much space in the house."

Elena took a deep breath. He was pushing her too far, he could sense it. She was barely keeping her temper in check. "Damon, cut the crap, ok? He's missing because of you, and it's killing you. We know you want to find him."

Damon knew damn well that his little brother's disappearing act was his fault, and he didn't need Elena to remind him. His grip tightened on the scotch glass and he leveled a glower in Elena's direction. She held her chin up, and glared right back.

Bonnie raised an eyebrow at both of them. "Can we start the spell now?" she asked, sounding impatient.

"Please," Elena agreed.

"Whatever," Damon drawled, returning to his liquor. Bonnie sighed harshly from behind him.

"I'm going to need your blood, Damon."

He rolled his eyes and put down his glass, heading over to the coffee table. His fangs popped out and he tore into the flesh of his wrist. Bonnie closed her eyes and began to chant as Damon's blood dribbled onto the map.

The lights in the room flickered. The candle flames roared higher. Bonnie's chanting grew louder and she winced in concentration, bending over the map and clutching her hands into fists. Damon stared at her, wide-eyed. She looked like she was in pain.

His blood congealed on the map. He expected it to start rolling along longitude and latitude lines the way Jeremy's blood had the last time Bonnie performed the spell. Instead, it soaked into the paper, dried, and evaporated. Suddenly, there was no blood on the map at all. It was as clean as it had been when they'd first laid it down.

Bonnie's eyes flew open and she gasped. "Bonnie?" Elena asked in concern.

She frowned down at the map, clutching the side of the table. "Where's the blood?" she asked.

"It… it kind of dried up and evaporated," Elena explained.

"Your spell didn't work," Damon added harshly. Bonnie frowned at the map.

"That shouldn't have happened," she said.

"You think?" Damon returned.

Bonnie took a deep breath, still frowning at the map. "Is it because he's not in the country anymore?" Elena asked. "Did Klaus take him to Europe or something?"

Her friend shook her head slowly, eyes on the map. "No… no, I think the blood would have rolled off the map or something. Shown that they'd gone out of bounds."

"So then what happened?"

Bonnie shook her head, frowning. "I don't know. We need to try this again."

They did try it again. Three more times. And then, at Elena's insistence, they tried the spell on the other maps – Canada, Mexico, South America, Europe…

The results were the same every time. "I think someone's blocking my spell," Bonnie said breathlessly, her hands starting to shake. "Klaus must have another witch up his sleeve."

"Why are you so winded?" Damon demanded. "Didn't we go out to that witches settlement and do that spell so your witchy juju would be multiplied by ten thousand, and you could do all the spells you wanted to without keeling over?"

"I don't know," Bonnie returned sharply, giving him a glare. "Maybe it's the other witch's power; maybe it's the fact that I didn't go to bed last night, and I'm exhausted."

"Let's try again," Elena suggested.

"No," Damon said. "It's not working. One more time isn't going to change that."

"You don't know it won't."

"I know your bestest friend in the whole wide world is bleeding out her nose."

Elena started at the words, turning to Bonnie in shock. Damon had noticed the nosebleed immediately after the last locator spell. Elena grabbed tissues from her pocket and started dabbing at her friend's face. Bonnie took the tissues and held them to her nose, breathing heavily as Elena led her to the sofa and made her sit down. "Oh, Bonnie," she murmured. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have pushed so hard."

"Not your fault. I thought I could handle it." She frowned, tilting her head back. "I _should_ have been able to handle it. I don't understand what's going on."

"You said you think another witch is blocking your spells," Elena pointed out, taking a seat beside her friend. "Maybe her spells are hurting you because you're trying to break them."

Bonnie nodded. "Maybe."

"Well, that's just great," Damon said callously. He was worried about the witch – kind of. They weren't exactly friends. He was way more worried about Stefan. "My little brother's gone AWOL, and now the witch is back to sucking. I told you this was a waste of time."

Elena glared at him. He went back to the liquor cabinet where he'd left his drink. "I'm sorry, Elena," he heard Bonnie say.

"It's all right. You said you didn't get any sleep last night. Bonnie, did something happen?"

Bonnie sucked in a hard breath. "Actually…"

She never finished her sentence. At that moment, the front door swung open and smashed into the wall with a resonating _bang!_ Elena and Bonnie both jumped. Damon frowned at the entrance hall. There was a blur, and then a tall, curvy brunette was standing in the room.

"Oh, god," Bonnie whispered. "She came here."

Elena got to her feet. Damon stared at the woman in the room. "Vicki?" Elena asked.

"S'up, Elena? Bonnie?" The girl turned to Damon and tilted her head, sneering. "Damon. Remember me?"

Damon swallowed down his unease and flashed a brilliant smirk. "Sure. I remember you – kind of. Didn't my brother stake you or something?"

Vicki sneered, taking a step forward. "That's the story."

"Right," Damon grinned, shrugging. "That sucks. So… what the hell are you doing here?"

She shrugged. "Oh, you know… revenge and all that."

He tilted his glass in her direction. "Been there."

"Your brother around?"

Damon shook his head. "Nope. He's gone. Tell you what… you leave me your card, and if I ever track the bastard down, I'll let you know."

Vicki laughed. "You're funny, Damon. I forgot how funny you are."

He smirked again.

"Still _totally_ going to kill you," Vicki added.

Damon threw back the remainder of his scotch and slammed the glass down on the bar. He opened his arms wide and gave her another winning smirk. "Hit me with your best shot."

He should have been at least a little concerned by the fact that Vicki Donovan was alive and in the flesh, threatening him with revenge, when he knew damn well Stefan had staked her and killed her months earlier. But he didn't care all that much. He just wanted to get the smack-down done and over with.

Vicki snarled, flashing a long, sharp set of fangs. Her eyes flashed, and suddenly her pupils and irises were gone. She glared at him with a pair of empty white eyes, tilting her head to the side and leering at him with an intense, unsettling hunger. Damon had never seen anything like it before.

"What the _fuck_?" he asked.

She lunged over the sofa, moving so fast he could no longer make out what she was. He felt the full force of her body as she slammed into him, knocking him to the floor. The two of them skidded into the wall. He heard Elena scream.

Damon grabbed Vicki's throat, his fangs coming out too, and struggled against her. She was wild, rabid, snarling and clawing at him, trying desperately to sink her fangs into him. Damon tossed her backwards and she landed on the sofa.

He scrambled onto his feet, just as Vicki leapt back up on hers. She tackled him again. Damon fell on top of the coffee table, Vicki snarling on top of him. He rolled her over and pinned her beneath him with his fangs bared, and lunged for her throat.

"Damon, don't!" he heard Bonnie call out. "Don't bite her!"

He ignored her and sank his teeth into Vicki's flesh.

The blood that filled his mouth and trickled down his throat was cold and it tasted like decaying meat. He gagged as it suddenly began to burn, like acid, almost as though the creature he was attacking had consumed vervain – but he knew there was no vervain. He couldn't taste it.

Damon let her go, falling backwards, choking on Vicki's blood. Vicki was instantly on her feet, blood running down her neck, and smirking at him.

"Nice try," she grinned. Then she jumped at him again – only to collapse beside him, screaming in agony.

Damon looked up, confused, still trying to spit the blood out of his mouth. Vicki clutched her temples, moaning and shrieking in pain. Bonnie stood over them both, eyes cold and hard and aimed at Vicki, while she ignored the blood trickling out of her nose.

He recognized it to be the same sort of aneurysm spell she used on him much too often. Vicki was howling with pain. Damon got to his feet and flipped the coffee table, preparing to snap off one of the legs.

"Don't bother," Bonnie croaked. Then, eyelids fluttering, she pitched forward, stiff as a board. Damon barely managed to catch her before she hit the floor.

"Bonnie!" Elena cried out, sounding terrified.

Vicki groaned as Damon caught Bonnie up in his arms and carried her to the couch. "Dude," she complained, clambering to her feet. "What the hell was that?"

"Witch aneurysm," Damon replied shortly, lowering Bonnie to the couch cushions. Elena scooted over towards her unconscious friend, keeping a wary eye on Vicki. Damon turned around and smirked at her. "Are we done here? Or do I have to kill you?"

"Vicki," Elena spoke up. "I don't know what's going on, or how you're back… but we can figure all this out, ok? You don't have to do this."

"Didn't I try to kill you?" Vicki asked, in a tone that suggested she really couldn't remember. "Isn't that why Stefan staked me?"

Elena nodded silently.

Vicki snorted. "And you want to help me? I think I'll pass."

"Good," Damon said. "Because I really _didn't _want to help you. Now can you get out of my house?"

"Vicki," Elena murmured. "I'm sorry about the way things turned out. But we want to…"

She was gone as suddenly as she came, before Elena could even finish speaking. For the life of him, Damon couldn't figure out why the vampire turned whatever the hell she was had fled before finishing the job… he hadn't exactly been winning the fight, and Bonnie was unconscious now. Still, she was gone. Damon sighed, running a hand through his hair. Elena looked up at him with huge watery eyes.

"What's going on, Damon?" she asked. "Is this some sort of plan Klaus cooked up to torture us?"

"Maybe," he murmured, but he didn't think so. He frowned down at Bonnie, remembering the warning to not bite Vicki. She had known, he realized now. She'd known the blood was toxic.

He perched himself on the edge of the couch and tapped Bonnie's face. "Oh, witch!" he called. "Time to wake up!"

Slowly, Bonnie's eyes fluttered open. "Bonnie?" Elena exclaimed, kneeling beside the sofa. "Bonnie, are you all right?"

Her hand went to her head and she frowned at the two faces hovering above hers. "I think so," she rasped.

Damon smirked, grabbing her jaw in his hand. "Glad to hear it," he said. "Because you've got some explaining to do."

* * *

><p>Jeremy sighed, scrolling down the results page of his Google search. He'd decided not to type random symptoms into the search bar after all – instead he'd typed 'zombies' and now he was reading through the results. So far, everything was about Hollywood zombie movies, and he was getting annoyed.<p>

Alaric passed behind him on the way to the dining room – to get another drink, Jeremy was sure – and snorted as he glanced at the monitor. "Told you."

"Shut up."

Alaric disappeared. Caroline, still sitting on the other side of the kitchen island next to Tyler, heaved a huge sigh and hopped off her stool. "I need a blood break," she announced. "I'll be back."

"Where are you going?" Tyler asked.

"To find a bunny."

"Nice."

She punched him in the shoulder and then waltzed towards the front door. Jeremy raised an eyebrow, noticing how Tyler's eyes followed her as she walked away.

He waited until the door shut to say something about it – didn't want to risk Caroline's vampire ears overhearing him – and then he smirked at Tyler and asked, "So, you and Caroline, huh?"

Tyler frowned at him. "What the hell are you talking about, Gilbert?"

Before the Masquerade Ball from Hell, Jeremy had actually been befriending the jerk jock sitting in his kitchen. One look at Tyler's pissed off face, however, made him think the bromance was over. Still, he pushed on, grinning.

"You're totally into her, aren't you?"

"We're friends. She helped me through some stuff."

"Werewolf stuff?"

"Maybe. Mind your own business."

Tyler looked back down at his book, his eyebrows drawn angrily together, and Jeremy held up his hands in surrender. "All right, fine. Sorry I asked, man."

Silence descended upon the kitchen. "You know," Jeremy murmured. "I heard you and Matt were kind of on the outs…"

"What do you care?"

"I just thought maybe you needed a friend."

"I don't."

"Well, if you change your mind? We could grab a burger or something. I mean, I'm an expert on unrequited romance."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"What do you think I'm talking about?"

Tyler glared at him. Jeremy couldn't help the grin that reappeared on his face. "You and Caroline," he clarified. "I know she was really into Matt…"

"Gilbert," Tyler interrupted, his tone deadly. "I've been working really hard on controlling my werewolf anger, but I'm not totally there yet. Ok?"

Jeremy laughed. "Are you threatening me?"

"Yeah. Shut up or I'll break your face."

"All right, all right. Sorry, man."

Again, there was silence. Jeremy sighed, focusing on his laptop again. So much for male bonding time. He missed having guy friends. Stefan was always wrapped up in Elena – until now, because he was missing. Damon was a dick. And as cool as Ric was, he was also old.

"So…" Tyler drawled suddenly. "You're like a zombie magnet now?"

Jeremy jerked his head up, frowning at the comment. Tyler smirked at him. For a moment, Jeremy stared at him, still surprised, and then he laughed. "Something like that."

"What's up with that? None of the living, breathing chicks want anything to do with you?"

Jeremy narrowed his eyes. Tyler raised an eyebrow, still smirking. It was an odd sort of friendship they had, one built namely on insulting one another, but Jeremy could live with it. He expected no less from Tyler Lockwood.

"Yeah, sure man. So where were you for the past month? Werewolf boot camp?"

Tyler's smirk vanished. "Go to hell, Gilbert."

"See you there, Lockwood."

Alaric came back just then, holding another glass of scotch, and flopped down at the island. "This blows," he announced.

Jeremy nodded, his eyes on the screen. "Yep."

Tyler nodded too, staying silent. Suddenly the door flew open, and Caroline reappeared.

"Tyler, I need you to drive me down to the police station!"

Jeremy's head flew up at that, a frown on his face. Tyler whirled around, jumping down from the kitchen stool. "What happened?" he demanded.

"My mom called," she explained, her cell phone still clutched in her hand. "One of her deputies found a body, and they think it was a vampire attack… she sounded really upset, but I didn't… I mean, I was with you all night…!"

Tyler was already at her side, his hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, Caroline. No one thinks it was you."

She shook her head. Jeremy stood up too and made his way into the hallway. He was a sucker for a hysterical woman. Caroline's distraught voice put him on instant comfort mode. "You don't get it," she said in small voice. "I convinced her to let me compel those deputies. I convinced her that Damon and Stefan weren't a threat! Now there's this body, and she's freaking out… she thinks she let the town down, and I'm the reason she… and what am I going to say to her? I can't know for sure it wasn't Damon! He's a total loose cannon right now!"

Tyler didn't look like he knew what to say. He just ducked his head and rubbed Caroline's back with one hand. Jeremy wasn't Caroline's closest friend, but he didn't like seeing her upset either. "Hey, it's all right," he spoke up. "Maybe it wasn't even a vampire."

"Oh, really, Jeremy?" Caroline snapped. "What was it, a _bear_? Please."

He blinked at the attack and held up his hands. Excuse him for trying to be nice.

"Maybe it was a zombie," Alaric called from the kitchen.

Jeremy went stiff at the off-the-cuff comment. He glared in Alaric's general direction. Sure, it _seemed_ like Anna and Vicki might be zombies, but they didn't know that for sure. And he definitely didn't care for the implication that his ex-girlfriends were running around town killing people like wild animals.

Tyler, on the other hand, grabbed at the suggestion like it was a life preserver. "Yeah, it could have been one of the, uh… possible zombies. We'll just go check it out, ok? See if it really was a vampire. Talk your mom down."

"So you'll take me?"

"Yeah, of course."

Caroline nodded, sucking in a huge breath. "Ok. Thanks."

Tyler's hand was on her back as they headed for the door. Jeremy's stomach flip-flopped at the realization that they were leaving. First Bonnie, now Caroline and Tyler. His research team was slowly dwindling, and it was enough to freak him out for a moment, albeit irrationally.

Tyler glanced over his shoulder, and Jeremy decided maybe he wasn't an insensitive tool after all when he nodded at him and promised, "We'll be back."

Then he steered Caroline out the front door and let it slam behind them.

Jeremy sighed. "You all right?" Alaric asked from the other room.

"Fine!" Jeremy called. "I'll be right back, ok?"

"Sure."

He marched upstairs. There was half a joint hiding in his nightstand. He'd eased off the drugs and stopped dealing completely after the mess with Vicki the year before, but that didn't mean he'd given it up altogether. Right now, he needed that half a joint.

But he never got it. When he pushed open his bedroom door, he found a petite girl with a head of black hair standing by his open window, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes on the floor.

He jumped, and then he swallowed, blinking furiously. "Anna?" he asked.

She turned to him and he saw immediately that she was crying. "Jeremy?"

"Hey," he whispered, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. "Hey, it's all right."

"I don't know what's going on," she said, shaking her head. "I don't know what I'm doing here, or how long I've been gone… how long have I been dead?"

"About six months," he murmured.

A sob escaped her throat. "I don't even know _what_ I am," she cried. "I don't… oh, no."

His stomach was climbing into his throat. Jeremy swallowed hard and came immediately to her side. "You're not a vampire, are you Jer?" she asked.

Jeremy shook his head. "No, Anna. I'm not."

She nodded, tears still flowing. "That's… good."

He drew her into his arms and she buried her face in his chest, sobbing into his shirt. "What's going on, Jeremy?"

"Bonnie did a spell," he murmured. "There were… unforeseen consequences."

"She brought me back to life?"

"Um…"

He trailed off, frowning over Anna's head at the far wall. He didn't really know what to say. He didn't really know what was going on.

"Look, Anna," he said. "It's going to be ok. I'm going to figure out what happened, and I'm going to help you. Ok?"

She shook her head against his chest. "No one can help me. I… I killed someone, Jer. I couldn't control it. I killed someone."

He rubbed her back soothingly. "It's ok. It was mistake."

"I ate… I ate his… I ate his _flesh_."

The confession hung heavy in the air. Jeremy's arms tightened around her as he contemplated exactly what that meant.

"Jer?" she asked, pulling her head back to look him in the eye. He looked back at her, stroking her hair away from her face. "Jeremy, what do I do?"

He stared at her, trying to decide. She looked up at him with eyes he'd never seen in Anna's face before – scared, confused, and desperate. Jeremy forced a smile for her and brushed her hair over her ear.

"You'll stay right here with me," he whispered. "We'll figure everything out together."

She sobbed again and he pulled her back into his arms. He frowned as her hands fisted in his shirt, and began rubbing her back again. It unnerved him, the realization that she fit so easily back into his arms; that he'd missed the way she felt when he held her, and now that he was holding her again it felt _so right_…

It occurred to him then that he might be in very serious trouble.

* * *

><p>When Tyler followed Caroline into the police station, Sheriff Forbes looked decidedly unhappy to see them.<p>

The woman crossed the room as they stood still at the door, dodging deputies running across the wooden floor, passing file cabinets and cluttered desks. When she reached them, she folded her arms and glared at them. "Caroline," she demanded. "What are you doing here?"

"You called me," Caroline returned defensively. "I thought you wanted help."

"Help?" Liz repeated, a bark of incredulous laughter escaping her lips. "No, Caroline, I wanted explanations."

"It wasn't me."

Liz glanced around them, checking to see if anyone heard. No one was even looking at them. Sighing, she whispered, "Not here."

She led them back towards her office and held the door open for them. Once both Tyler and Caroline were inside, she shut the door and locked it. When she turned to the two teenagers, her arms were folded across her chest again. "Do you have any idea how _furious_ the mayor is with me?" she asked.

Caroline straightened her back and folded her arms across her chest too, mirroring her mother almost exactly. "If you're going to accuse me of something, just come right out and do it."

Tyler glanced around him, not liking the closed in space. There was one window, with a slab of cardboard duct-taped where the glass used to be. He was on edge, and Sheriff Forbes' attitude was not helping. At the moment, the woman was seriously pissing him off.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm not _accusing _you, I just… a man is dead, Caroline."

"It wasn't her," Tyler spoke up, glaring at the Sheriff. "She was with me all night, and besides, Caroline wouldn't do that."

Caroline lowered her head and stared at the floor, blinking. Tyler felt bad suddenly, realizing she was remembering the person she'd killed when she'd first turned. He'd bet his trust fund that when she'd come clean to her mother the night before, she'd left out that little detail.

"I didn't say it was, Tyler," Liz sighed tiredly. "But it was _someone_. If the Salvatores…"

"Mom, something's happened to Stefan," Caroline interrupted. "It couldn't have been him, because he's not in Mystic Falls anymore."

Liz looked like she wanted to pry, but she swallowed her questions and pressed on. "And Damon?"

Caroline swallowed. "He… was around. But he was sick, Mom. Elena said he was in bed all night."

It was a lie. Elena had said nothing about anything to Caroline thus far, and Tyler knew it. He didn't call her on it; he'd lied to Sheriff Forbes so many times he'd lost count, and it had never been about anything as important as this.

"Then who was it?" Liz asked.

"I think maybe it wasn't a vampire," Caroline replied. "It's a long story, but that spell Bonnie did to bring back Jeremy had a bit of a price tag on it."

Tyler watched Liz duck her head in shame, blinking rapidly. The reminder of Jeremy's death and resurrection packed a powerful punch with the sheriff.

"What kind of a price tag?" she asked quietly, eyes still on the floor.

Caroline shrugged. "We're not totally sure, but it brought something back. Some kind of creature… and we don't know what it's capable of yet. If you let me look at the body, I'll know whether or not it was a vampire."

"Are you _joking_, Caroline?" Sheriff Forbes snapped. "I'm not letting you see the body!"

"Mom."

"This is a private police affair…"

"_Mom._"

"I'm not just going to let my underage daughter into the morgue and show her a mangled corpse!"

Caroline raised an eyebrow at her. Liz stared back helplessly for a little while. Tyler could see she was having a hard time wrapping her head around the idea that Caroline wasn't the same girl she used to be anymore… that she could more than handle the sight of a dead body. Hell, Tyler honestly believed Caroline was tougher than he'd ever be.

"Fine," Liz relented, rolling her eyes. She swung open the door. "Morgue's in the basement. Steps are at the end of the hall."

Caroline took off down the hallway, headed for the stairs. Tyler made to follow her, but Liz stopped him with a hand against his chest. He frowned at the sheriff, and she raised a stern eyebrow at him.

"Tyler," she said. "You and Caroline have been spending an awful lot of time together."

He frowned harder. "So?"

"She told me you're a…" Liz sighed and glanced around, making sure they were alone. "A werewolf."

Tyler looked away, his lips tight with aggravation, and shook his head. "She also told me," Liz pressed. "That a werewolf bite can kill a vampire."

He looked her in the eye. Liz was eyeing him the way she'd eyed him last year after she caught him drinking in the woods. "Do you really think the two of you spending so much time together is a good idea?" she asked.

Tyler glared. She didn't back down. He shrugged, tilting his head to the side, coming off more challenging than he meant to. "No," he retorted. "Probably not. But she wants me around, and I want her around, so… here we are."

Liz frowned at him. She nodded. "Here we are."

"Are we going to check this body out or not?"

Her mouth was in tight, stern little line. "Sure."

He brushed past her and took off in the direction Caroline had gone. Liz's footsteps sounded behind them. He took the steps and found Caroline at the bottom, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Where were you two?" she demanded.

"It's not important," the sheriff replied, brushing past them both. "Morgue's this way."

He had done nothing to endear himself to the sheriff, but he really didn't care. She wanted to get between him and Caroline, and he wasn't about to let that happen. Caroline was the only friend he had left in this town, with the possible exception of Jeremy Gilbert, and the last thing he was going to do was leave her in the lurch when all this shit with Klaus and her mom and Jeremy's ex-girlfriend zombies was going down.

He'd let her down before, and he couldn't do it again. He owed her that much.

They followed Sheriff Forbes into the morgue. She marched them over to one of the sliding metal drawers and pulled it out of the wall. A body lay stretched flat on the narrow metal slab, covered with a sheet. He inhaled through his nose and smelled decay.

Liz pulled back the sheet. Tyler nearly gagged. As it was, he had to look away. He was already too used to the sight of dead bodies, but none of the bodies he'd seen looked like this one. The flesh was torn away from the neck, the chest, and the left arm. It looked like that section of the man's body had gone through a meat grinder. He could see his ribs and the bones in his arm, and if he looked really close, he'd bet he could see organs too.

He didn't look close. Caroline did, and it unnerved him to see her so calm and collected while examining the gruesome sight. It unnerved Sheriff Forbes too, judging by the wrinkle of her nose and the shocked, glazed look in her eyes.

Caroline frowned at the body, slowly shaking her head. "This doesn't look like a vampire attack," she said slowly. "Something… something _ate_ the…"

"The flesh," Sheriff Forbes supplied. "Yes. Something did."

"Vampires don't eat flesh," Caroline said. "This wasn't a vampire, Mom."

Silence descended on them morgue. Tyler ran his hand through his hair, knowing all too well what that meant. Vicki or Anna had done this.

"What was it?" Sheriff Forbes asked.

Tyler glanced at Caroline, waiting her answer. She gave him a wide-eyed look, and took a shaky breath.

"I'm not sure," she said. "But we're working on it."

"I need to hear something better than 'we're working on it,' Caroline. The mayor's going to want answers."

"Well, tell her it wasn't a vampire," Caroline retorted. "Tell her the injuries don't match up. Tell her you need more time to figure out what you're up against."

Sheriff Forbes shook her head, laughing slightly as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's not that easy, Caroline. She's getting impatient. She blames the vampires for what happened to Richard."

She glanced uneasily at Tyler. They were talking about his parents, but Tyler didn't really care. He knew all about the fire in Dr. Gilbert's old office and how it was connected to vampires and the Founder's Council. That was one of the few things Caroline had been upfront about.

Caroline sighed. "I know. I'm sorry, Mom, but we don't know what we're up against either."

And if you hadn't gone crazy and shot Jeremy Gilbert in the chest, Tyler thought in annoyance, none of this would be happening at all.

Sheriff Forbes sighed and looked at her daughter. A small smile formed on her face, and she tucked a lock of Caroline's hair behind her ear. "I know, Caroline. I'm sorry too. I just… this isn't easy for me."

"I know, Mom."

Tyler started backing away, headed for the door. He felt like he was intruding on a mother-daughter moment, and needed to get the hell out of there so they could bond or whatever. His attempt to flee, however, ended up being unnecessary. Sheriff Forbes turned from her daughter and headed for the doors, holding one open.

"I'll take care of this," she said. "I'll talk to the mayor. You two go home."

Caroline hugged her mother before she left, and Liz returned the embrace, albeit rather awkwardly. Then Tyler followed Caroline back upstairs and through the police station.

When they'd reached the street and climbed back into the truck, Caroline sighed loudly, leaning back in her seat and rubbing her forehead. Tyler frowned at her, pausing before he turned the key in the ignition.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asked. "We don't have to go back and help with the research stuff if you don't want to."

"God, I really don't want to," she admitted. "Can you believe how much crap has happened in the past… I don't even know! Fifteen hours? Seventeen? It hasn't even been a full day yet!"

"Yeah," he agreed. "It's screwed up. I can take you home."

"No," she shook her head. "It's fine. Let's go back to Jeremy and Elena's."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

He started the engine and eased the truck out of the parallel parking space. "Thanks, Tyler," she said. "For helping me out."

"It's not just for you," he replied uneasily. "Vicki tried to kill me."

"Yeah," Caroline agreed. "Still, thanks."

He nodded. "No problem."

They fell into silence as he headed towards the Gilbert house once again. Tyler was worried about Caroline, mostly, and himself, because Vicki was still out there. Then he realized that Jeremy was waiting back at the Gilbert house, still dead set on helping his zombie exes, and one of those exes had just killed a man.

He knew Jeremy wouldn't take the news too well.


	5. That Smell

On the Origin of Species

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I am not associated with anything _Vampire Diaries_, and I make no profit off this fan fiction. Also, I stole the title from Charles Darwin. Don't sue, please… I've got nothing but some pocket change and a car that won't start.

Summary: After Elijah's betrayal, another Original comes to Mystic Falls to kill the hybrid, and discovers that history is about to repeat itself. Set post season 2 finale. Forwood first and foremost, but I love all the other characters and their relationships too much not to play with those too… and those could end up going anywhere.

AN: Big thanks to andsoitis2, Nova802, Bee03, SapphireSnap, AllCreator, JYLlian, Katertots, anonymous, and bianca08 for the reviews!

* * *

><p>Chapter 4: That Smell<p>

Tyler was touching Caroline too much.

He knew it, and he wanted to stop, but he couldn't. He couldn't stop grabbing her the night before at her mother's house, when the police were in her kitchen; he'd _had_ to hug her when she'd burst into tears; he'd _had_ to comfort her when she was spitting up Vicki's blood. When they'd headed over to the Gilbert house, he couldn't keep himself from laying his hand on her shoulder, or rubbing her back after she'd gotten upset. He was like a child in some fancy shop right after his mother had warned him not to touch anything – all of a sudden he had to put his hands on _everything_. He couldn't _not_ touch.

She didn't seem to notice, which was worse. Caroline was basically his only friend now, and he didn't want to mess that up – especially if he was staying in town this time around. The idea of leaving was tempting, but he couldn't do that to her now, with everything that was happening… and honestly, he couldn't do it to his mother either. She deserved better than that.

Still, he couldn't deny that he wanted more than friendship out of Caroline. Jeremy Gilbert, that smug son of a bitch, was absolutely right on that front. But she'd told him herself, the morning after that kiss, the day after he'd found out about Mason… she'd told him they couldn't go there.

So he wasn't going there. And that meant he had to stop touching her.

He parked his truck in the Gilberts' driveway, and then followed Caroline to the front door. Immediately on hitting the front porch, an unpleasant stench filled his nostrils. Tyler snorted involuntarily, rubbing at his nose. Caroline frowned at him over her shoulder.

It was the stench of decay, just like in the woods. Not outright rotten, like the bodies in the morgue. The damp, earthy scent he'd attributed to the forest was there too, mingling with the decay, making him think the two scents went together.

"One of them is here," he announced. "Vicki or Anna."

Caroline's eyes widened. "Ok," she murmured. "Um… I guess I better go in first."

He scoffed.

She rolled her eyes. "Vicki wants to kill _you_, remember? Not me."

Then she opened the door and walked inside.

Tyler hung behind her slightly, warily glancing around the entryway. "We're in here!" Jeremy's voice called from the family room.

Caroline strode purposefully towards the back of the house. He followed her, his muscles tensing as the smell grew stronger. He clenched his fists at his sides. The smell was so _wrong_, and ever instinct in his body was screaming _run, run, run! _

They found Jeremy sitting on the sofa beside a tiny, black haired girl. Alaric was in an armchair with a book balanced on his knee, clutching yet another drink and looking bored. Tyler stopped just inside the room, keeping his distance from the sofa and the smell.

"Hey Jeremy, hey Ric," Caroline chirped. She too hung back, but she drew nearer than Tyler had. "Um…"

Jeremy got to his feet as the black haired girl turned around. "Guys, this is Anna," he announced. "Anna, that's Caroline and Tyler."

Tyler nodded at the girl on the couch. "Hey," he offered awkwardly.

She forced out a smile for him. "Hi."

The room went silent. Tyler shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, shuffling from one foot to the other. Alaric took a heavy gulp from his drink. Tyler's spine was still tingling, and even though the tiny girl sitting on the couch didn't look particularly threatening, his overly alert nerves were telling him otherwise.

"No offense," Caroline said suddenly. "But, um… you're not here to kill anybody, are you?"

Tyler had to check himself before he laughed out loud. Alaric failed to do the same and snorted into his scotch. Jeremy gave Caroline an outraged look. "What the hell, Caroline?" he demanded.

Anna laughed, to Tyler's surprise. Not loudly or anything – it was more a giggle than a laugh – but her dark eyes twinkled, and she smiled brightly at Caroline. "No worries. From what I understand, the man who killed me is gone, so… there's no one left for me to want revenge on."

The twinkle left her eyes as she said the last part, and she looked sadly down at her lap.

"Good," Caroline sighed in relief. "Because the other one? Vicki? She already tried to kill two of us today, and she's planning on killing more, so… yeah. Just checking."

Tyler's intense need to run was dissipating now. Anna was feeling less and less threatening, and as much as her scent was irritating his nose, his nerves were settling.

"Yeah…" Jeremy murmured, glancing nervously at Anna. "Look, Anna came here right after you two left, and, uh…"

He scratched at the back of his neck, looking at a loss for words. Tyler frowned at him. Anna looked at the floor as she got to her feet. "You're the sheriff's daughter, right?" she asked Caroline.

Caroline nodded.

Anna swallowed. "It was an accident," she whispered. "I didn't mean to."

Caroline frowned, taking a threatening step forward. "Didn't mean to what?"

Anna looked at Jeremy for help. Right about then, Tyler heard the front door swing open. Three sets of footsteps echoed in the hall. "Jeremy?" Elena's voice floated back to them.

"Family room!" Jeremy bellowed.

Tyler had to dart to the side to avoid being run over by the frantic brunette who suddenly flew by him. Elena rushed to her brother's side, throwing her arms around his neck. Jeremy wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, frowning into his older sister's hair. "What's wrong, Elena?"

She let go of him abruptly and slapped him on the chest. "You died and you didn't tell me!"

Jeremy cringed and looked at the kitchen. Tyler turned to see Bonnie standing there, Damon close behind with his hands gripping her arms. Bonnie winced at Jeremy, mouthing an apology. Damon smirked at them all, something dangerous lurking in his bright blue eyes.

"So…" Jeremy murmured, scratching the back of his neck. "I guess Bon gave you the details."

"The details?" Elena repeated, furious. "Jeremy, I am your sister. You don't die, get brought back to life, and then haunted by… by… _zombies_… and then not tell me!"

"Hi, Elena," Anna spoke up.

Elena jumped, startled by the voice, and then her eyes fell on the tiny girl sitting on her family room couch. She took a step back, swallowing. "Anna," she murmured.

"Don't worry," Anna said with a grin that didn't reach her eyes. "I come in peace."

"Really," Damon drawled. Tyler glanced at the vampire, who was lowering Bonnie onto one of the kitchen stools. "Peace, huh? Excuse me if I find that hard to believe."

Anna stood up and narrowed her eyes, looking completely unafraid of him. "We were on good terms when I died, Damon," she returned. "Is there some reason that's changed?"

He snorted. "Um… _yeah_. You're a _zombie._"

"We don't know that yet," Jeremy spoke up.

Tyler hated the idea that anyone being a zombie looked like a reasonable conclusion, but he couldn't help his disbelief at Jeremy's stubbornness. All arrows currently pointed at zombie. If Anna and Vicki weren't zombies, then what the hell were they?

"Oh, shut up," Damon spat at him. "If I need the opinion of a sixteen-year-old idiot, I'll surf MySpace. None of this would be happening right now if you could keep yourself out of trouble for ten _freaking_ minutes."

"Actually, none of this would be happening right now if you hadn't ducked Sheriff Forbes' wooden bullet and let it hit me in the chest," Jeremy returned smoothly. "But you're right Damon; helping you was a total idiot move."

Damon took a threatening step forward. "Are you blaming _me_ for this?"

"Maybe I am," Jeremy retorted. "And for the record? Stop calling Anna 'this.' She has a name, and you know damn well what it is."

Silence fell on the living room. Tyler was beyond uncomfortable. He glanced at Caroline for guidance, but she looked the way he felt: confused and on high alert. Tyler saw Bonnie shifting on her stool out of the corner of his eye. She looked guilty and kind of sad, but mostly she just looked sick.

"I think maybe we all need to calm down," Elena announced, always playing peacemaker. "No one's at fault here. Anna, it's not that we're not glad you're back…"

"But you don't know what I am, or what I'm capable of, and the other 'zombie' is running amok, trying to kill you all?" Anna finished good-naturedly. "I get it; I'm feeling the same way right about now."

"What were you going to say?" Caroline demanded.

Anna and Jeremy both blinked at her. "Before they came in," she pushed. "You said it was an accident. What was an accident?"

Tyler watched Anna lower her head and stare at the floor. He saw Jeremy glare in Caroline's direction. It suddenly all made sense.

"It was you," he said. "You killed that guy."

Anna shook her head. "No, I didn't."

Caroline frowned. "You didn't?"

"I did kill someone," she admitted. "But not the man your mother found. No one's found him; I buried him in the forest."

Tyler's hair stood on end again, and he clenched his fists, the need to run or attack returning at her admission. Damon laughed out loud; one short bitter bark of a laugh.

"And _that_," he announced, waving his hands about theatrically. "Is why you and I are no longer on 'good terms'."

"Shut up, Damon," Jeremy snapped. "Half the people in this room have killed somebody. Someone even does it on purpose."

Damon narrowed his eyes at him. Tyler looked away from the faceoff going on between Gilbert and the dick vampire. The subject of killing people, accidentally or otherwise, tended to bring back bad memories. His eyes fell on Bonnie, still sitting silently on the kitchen stool.

He saw her frowning at the two of them and trying to get to her feet. Tyler pushed himself off the wall as Bonnie stood up, unnoticed by everyone except him, and tried to make her way over to the rest of the group. He saw her stumble, and then she pitched forward. He reacted, his werewolf speed surfacing naturally, and caught her before she hit the floor.

She gasped as he held her up, and clutched at his jacket. "Thank you," she breathed.

"Are you all right?" he demanded. She nodded. "I think you need to sit down," he said, steering her towards an arm chair in the living room.

"Bonnie?" Caroline asked, following the two of them. "What happened? Are you all right? Elena, is she all right?"

"Witchy's fine," Damon retorted. "She just overdid it trying to find my runaway little brother. Oh, and then there was the whole _raising the dead_ thing."

Tyler lowered Bonnie into the chair and Caroline quickly propped herself on the arm rest, running her fingers through Bonnie's hair. "You look terrible," she said.

Bonnie managed a shaky smile. "Thanks, Care."

"Sorry! I didn't mean… it's just… you look sick, Bonnie."

"What happened?" Jeremy asked, coming over to the chair too. Tyler stepped away so Jeremy could kneel in front of his girlfriend. Suddenly, all eyes were on the previously forgotten witch.

"It's nothing," Bonnie assured him as he took her hands in his. "Like Damon said, I was running locator spells on Stefan, and I just… did too much. Then Vicki showed up…"

"Vicki?" Jeremy asked.

Bonnie nodded. "She tried to kill Damon. And because Damon is a total idiot, he completely ignored me when I told him not to bite her, and got blood poisoning."

She glared at the vampire in question, who smirked and shrugged. "I'm a rebel," he quipped.

"So Bonnie had to use her aneurysm spell," Elena explained. "And it completely exhausted her. Bonnie, maybe you should go to bed? Jeremy can take you up to his room."

"Yeah," Jeremy agreed. "You should rest. I'll take you upstairs and get you some water."

"No," Bonnie shook her head. "We're all sitting here talking about the consequences of _my_ spell. I'm not going anywhere until this conversation is over."

"Well, I'm getting you some water," Jeremy returned, smiling at her. Bonnie quirked her lips at him, but she looked shaky. When Jeremy released her hands and headed for the kitchen, she flopped back heavily in the chair.

"Do you want my blood?" Caroline asked.

Bonnie made a face. "No, Caroline. I'm good."

Everything felt awkward again. Tyler stood uselessly off to the left of Bonnie's chair, his hands dangling stupidly at his sides. He could feel Damon's eyes on him, and knew the vampire was splitting his time between glaring at him and glaring at Anna. For her part, Anna looked like she'd just realized her ex-boyfriend had a new girlfriend. She was frowning in Bonnie's direction, jealousy in her dark eyes.

"Hold on a second," Alaric spoke suddenly. Everyone turned to him in surprise. Honestly, Tyler had forgotten he was there. "Didn't you do a spell at the old witches' settlement so this kind of stuff would _stop_ happening?"

"Thank you, Ric," Damon smirked. "If nothing else, you have a firm grasp of the obvious. On a related note; are you all right? Because you smell like a distillery."

Alaric narrowed his eyes in Damon's direction and flipped him the finger. "Bite me," he said, throwing back the rest of his drink.

Damon shrugged, and turned back to Bonnie. "The drunken history teacher makes an excellent point, witch. I don't buy for one second that you're tired and you've been doing a lot of spells and you're not on your game and blah, blah, blah. Something's wrong with your mojo; now what is it?"

Jeremy returned with Bonnie's water and handed it to her, kneeling by her chair again. "Back off, Damon," he said. "She's sick."

"You're giving me a lot of attitude today, Baby Gilbert," Damon retorted, glaring dangerously at Jeremy. "_I don't like it_."

Jeremy scoffed. "I don't care."

Damon took a threatening step in Jeremy's direction, but Anna blurred suddenly, running in between them and stopping Damon in his tracks. "Don't," she ordered, her eyes narrowed challengingly.

The vampire frowned, taken aback. Then he cocked an eyebrow and smirked, his eyes lighting up in that crazy way of his as he took another threatening step forward. It looked like Damon had found a new target to vent his aggression on.

"Damon, stop it," Elena spoke up.

He glowered at her, but complied with her request. Tyler, still watching the scene silently from his little corner, raised an eyebrow. Damon Salvatore was totally whipped.

"Look, all this fighting isn't helping us," Elena went on. "I realize we're all on information overload here… Anna, you can stay here, all right? But you've got to control your urges. I believe you when you say the murder was an accident, but…"

Anna looked at the floor as Elena trailed off, swallowing. Jeremy stood up. "She won't do it again," he promised for the zombie vampire – or whatever she was. "We'll find some other way for her to feed."

Tyler raised an eyebrow at that, picturing long nights in cemeteries, digging up graves so Anna – and hell, if Jeremy had his way, probably Vicki too – could satisfy their appetites with the flesh of dead bodies rather than living breathing people. Elena winced too, and he thought maybe she was imagining the same thing. "Glad to hear it," she pressed on. "Look, we have to find Stefan and we need more information about how Bonnie's spell affected Anna and Vicki. Fighting is getting us nowhere. So, if anyone has something constructive to suggest, now would be a good time."

The silence Elena met with was deafening. Tyler felt guilty, leaning against her family room wall, having absolutely nothing to contribute. He didn't know how to help anyone; hell, sometimes he barely knew how to help himself. He didn't know what to do about Jeremy's zombie problem and he didn't know how to help find Stefan Salvatore. Tyler had nothing. And from the looks of it, no one else in the room had anything either.

Finally, Bonnie ended the silence. "I'll go out to the old witches' settlement," she croaked. "I'll ask them what's going on with my magic. I'll see if they know anything about Anna and Vicki. I'll try to get some help with Stefan."

Elena looked at her friend gratefully. "Thank you, Bonnie."

"Not today," Jeremy spoke up. "You need to rest, Bon. We can go tomorrow."

She nodded, offering him a smile. "No arguments here."

He smiled back and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I'm going to take you upstairs now, ok?"

She nodded again, and Jeremy lifted her off the chair, carrying her towards the stairs. Caroline snatched Bonnie's water glass off the nearby end table and ran after them.

"Ric," Damon spoke up, narrowing his eyes at the teacher. "I think I'll stop by the Grille for a drink. You in?"

Alaric eyed his empty glass. He looked up hopefully at Damon for a moment, but then he glanced at Elena. Lowering his glass onto the coffee table, he shook his head. "I better not," he murmured. "Thanks though."

Damon nodded, and Tyler felt like they were speaking in some sort of code. "If you change your mind…"

"Right. Thanks."

Damon nodded again and then headed for the hallway. "Wait!" Elena called after him. "Where are you going? What about Stefan?"

"You heard Bewitched," Damon spat. "She's out of commission until tomorrow. Until then, we've got nothing."

Elena shook her head at him, her eyes shining. "Damon, we can't just sit here and do nothing! Can't we go out looking for him in the car or something? Ask people if they've seen them, maybe try and get some information on where Klaus likes to spend his time…"

Damon guffawed. "Right, Elena. I'm _sure _there's a webpage _somewhere_ called 'Klaus-the-Hybrid's-Five-Fave-Places-to-Be.' Face it; Bonnie's the only link we've got. The only other person who _might_ have been able to help us was Elijah… and since he's most likely palling around with his brother, drinking the blood of the innocent, I wouldn't hold out hope that he'll march through that door with all the answers anytime soon."

With that, Damon turned his back on Elena and headed for the front door. In a blur, he was gone. The door slammed behind him.

Elena burst into tears.

Tyler froze immediately. Elena was sobbing in front of him with her face buried in her hands. He was so not equipped to handle this. If she was Caroline, maybe. He could handle Caroline, but a sobbing Elena Gilbert…?

He didn't have to do anything, as it turned out. Alaric got up from his chair and crossed to Elena's side, placing his hand on her shoulder. She turned to him, looking up at him with big watery eyes, and the history teacher gave her a much needed hug.

"Odd man out, huh?"

Tyler started at Anna's voice, finding the tiny zombie girl standing at his side, smiling up at him. He forced a smile back. "Guess you could say that."

She smirked. "You're the only werewolf in the place, Tyler. You're surrounded by vampires. I'd say you're the odd man out."

"Well, what about you?" he retorted. "You're the only zombie in the place."

Anna looked at the ground. "Yeah," she agreed softly. "Can we maybe not call me that, though? Something about the word zombie… it just makes me feel… well, gross."

He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fair enough."

She nodded, staring at him. Tyler glanced between her and the two people hugging on the other side of the room, desperately wanting to bail – and not just because of Anna. Elena and Alaric were making him plenty uncomfortable too.

"You're on edge," Anna observed. Tyler groaned inwardly at her determination to talk. "Afraid I'm going to eat your face?"

She gave him what would have passed for a goofy grin if her eyes weren't so sad. He forced another smile. "Sorry… it's an instinct thing."

"No need to apologize. Survival instincts are important and all."

Tyler smiled again and nodded, lowering his eyes to the floor. He wondered how the hell he had gotten to this place. What sort of wrong turn had him standing in this room, making awkward small talk with a zombie?

The absurdity of the situation almost made him burst into hysterical laughter – but he had a feeling that sobbing Elena would hardly appreciate it. Tyler held it in.

There were footsteps in the front hall, and then Caroline appeared. "Bonnie's ok," she announced. "Jeremy's just staying with her until she falls asleep. Oh my god, Elena!"

In seconds she was across the room, shoving Alaric aside and wrapping Elena in a bone-crushing hug. Alaric stumbled back drunkenly, blinking in bemusement. "Are you all right?" Caroline asked.

"No," Elena replied, her voice muffled by Caroline's shoulder. "Stefan's gone, Caroline, and I can't find him, and Damon… god, he's not even _trying_ to help."

Caroline rubbed Elena's back soothingly. "We're going to find him," she promised. "With or without stupid Damon."

Elena laughed a little.

"We don't need him anyway. He sucks."

Elena laughed louder. Then she sobbed again.

"I know," Caroline whispered, still rubbing her friend's back. "I know."

Tyler stared at her from his place on the wall, and she caught his eye over Elena's shoulder. For a moment, they just stared at one another. He felt like there was no air in the Gilbert house. His ears were full of Elena's sobs, and his nose was burning with Anna's foul, rotten stench. Everyone had spent the past twenty minutes screaming at each other, and all Tyler wanted to do was run. He wanted to bail, now. Screw research, screw helping, screw taking care of other people – he wanted to leave and never look back.

What was stopping him, really? He was supposed to be grounded; he could at least go home. Caroline could catch a ride from someone else – hell, she didn't even need a ride. She could take off sprinting full speed for her house and reach her front door in seconds. He almost headed for the door right then and there.

He didn't though. It had been a useless thought the moment he'd had it. As suffocating as the house was – not to mention the people in it – he knew he was stuck. Old Tyler would have bailed, but new Tyler – whoever the hell he was; Tyler still didn't know – _new_ Tyler was a chump, who couldn't bail even if he tried.

* * *

><p>Alaric propped his elbow on the kitchen island and leaned on his fist, smashing his cheek up awkwardly. He lazily flipped a page in his book and yawned. He wasn't sure why he was still bothering with the research thing. It was dark out, and even Elena had already gone to bed. Jeremy was upstairs with Anna, Bonnie was still resting in Jeremy's room, and Tyler and Caroline were passed out on the family room couch.<p>

It might be nice to go back to his apartment – he doubted it. The place still felt creepy. Every piece of furniture reminded him of Klaus. He might have left anyway, but he felt weird going home and leaving Jeremy and Elena alone. He felt even weirder leaving them with Anna. In all today's talk about banding together and finding Stefan and learning to live with zombies – _freaking zombies_ – everyone had overlooked the dead plants in the Gilberts' backyard.

Not Alaric. It was a strange thing to be focusing on – he heard Anna say she'd lost control of her urges and accidentally eaten somebody, but one accidental death was not what worried him. People shouldn't be eaten and all that crap – he got that, he did, but Anna could find other sustenance. Anna could learn to control her urges. Vampires did.

But how does one live a normal life when everywhere they go, they rot the ground around them?

Sighing, he shut the book and stood up. He took the latest of too many drinks in his hand and sipped at it. It tasted dry and bitter, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Alaric eyed the sofa and contemplated letting Tyler and Caroline spend the night on it. He could always sleep in Jenna's bed.

The idea of sleeping in Jenna's bed turned his stomach, and for a moment, Alaric believed all the liquor he'd consumed throughout the day was getting revenge. The bed reminded him of her, of her and him. It smelled like her hair. He couldn't sleep there; he couldn't even enter the room.

He walked into the family room and stopped in front of the sofa, tilting his head and studying the sleeping teenagers. Caroline's head was on Tyler's shoulder, a book about to slide off her lap, and Tyler had his arm wrapped around her almost possessively; the way a werewolf from some asinine YA novel would wrap his arm around a girl.

"Cute," he muttered sarcastically. He tossed the remainder of his drink at them.

Both of them started awake when the cold liquid splashed their faces. "What the hell?" Tyler bellowed, blinking sleep from his eyes and wiping his face.

"Ric!" Caroline squealed, trying to clean herself up.

"It's getting late," he told them. "Your mothers are probably worried. You should go."

Caroline fumbled for her cell phone and blinked at the display screen. "1:30 in the morning," she groaned. "My mom's going to be mad."

"_Your_ mom?" Tyler retorted, dragging himself off the couch. "I'm grounded, remember?"

"Are you sure you'll be ok here?" Caroline asked Alaric, clutching her purse in her hands and staring at him with shiny, concerned eyes.

He shrugged. "I'm fine. There's nothing else we can do tonight."

Caroline nodded, but she didn't look entirely convinced. "Ok," she murmured. "See you later."

"Later," Alaric agreed.

"Bye," Tyler grunted, headed for the door. Caroline hurried after him.

When the door shut behind them, the house instantly felt too big and strangely empty. The silence filled his ears. Alaric thought about refilling his glass, but decided against it. He scooped books and journals off the couch and coffee table, trying to reorganize his things.

"You look like hell."

The voice was slurred, and came from nowhere, as the speaker's entrance was silent. Alaric straightened up, letting the books fall where they may, and blinked over his shoulder. Damon was leaning in the back door, frowning at him with bleary eyes.

"You look drunk," Alaric shrugged.

"You _are _drunk. You've _been_ drunk."

Alaric shrugged again. "What is this, a competition?"

Damon staggered into the house and flopped down at the kitchen island. "Look at all this _crap_," he said, knocking a book to the floor.

"Watch it," Alaric reprimanded him, but he couldn't summon the energy to actually care. "That was old." He knew his words were as slurred as Damon's.

"So what are we researching?" Damon asked, lifting a book above his head. He pulled it open and squinted up at it. "Zombies?"

Alaric took a seat across from him and stared at his empty glass. "Yep."

Damon sighed and dropped the book. "Whatever."

Silence fell on the kitchen. Alaric stared at the vampire. "You miss Stefan," he accused.

Damon smirked. "You miss Jenna."

The name hit him in the chest, and Alaric felt a dull ache spread from his gut up through his ribs. Damon stopped smirking and glared at the counter. "I hate Klaus," he announced. "I want him to _pay_. I want his _ancestors_ to pay. I'm going to find him and tear out his throat and _dance_ on it. I'm going to light him on fire and laugh while he burns."

"Good luck with that," Alaric replied, unaffected by the colorful imagery.

"You're going to help me," Damon retorted.

Alaric stared at him, raising his eyebrow. "Am I?" he asked snidely. "The way I helped last time?"

Damon visibly flinched, which surprised Alaric. "I didn't want you to die," he explained, as though that excused what had been done.

"Funny," Alaric smirked. "Coming from the guy who killed me."

Damon shrugged, smirking back. "I'm full of surprises."

They were silent again. "Elena's mad at me," Damon observed.

Alaric nodded. "You were a dick."

"I'm always a dick," he replied, waving it off like they should all just accept it. Alaric shrugged.

"Yeah," he agreed. "But that's not going to cut it, Damon, not anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because now there's no Stefan to clean up your messes."

"Why can't you clean up my messes?"

Alaric blinked in surprise at the vampire's question. It was only half a joke; he could see sincerity behind Damon's smirk.

"I'm not your keeper," Alaric told him. "I have other shit to deal with."

"They're not your responsibility," Damon retorted, jerking him thumb towards the stairs. "It's not like you married her."

He shrugged and glared stubbornly at the island counter. "She would have wanted me to help them."

They were silent again. Damon stared at Alaric, who very pointedly did not take his eyes off the countertop. Then Damon sighed loudly and theatrically. "Whatever," he said.

Alaric could have gotten mad, but it wouldn't have done any good. Damon understood, he thought, even if he was trying not to act like it. The vampire pulled one of the books toward him and flipped it open. "Let's figure out how to help Baby Gilbert," he grumbled.

With a knowing smirk, Alaric opened his book again. He had known all along that Damon would come around.

* * *

><p>It was still dark when the red pickup truck rolled to a stop in front of a small white house on a quiet street, the night edging into the early hours of morning. The moon was high in the sky, getting close to half full, while the stars struggled to shine against the glow of the streetlights lining the boulevard. The house itself was dark. It gave off an ominously empty vibe, setting it apart from the other houses on the street.<p>

Two women hopped down from the cab of the pickup, and a man vaulted out of the bed. One woman was young, practically still a girl. She was tall and curvaceous and strutted with a sex appeal older than her years. Her curly dirt blonde hair was thick, long, full and high, and she wore a ring through one nostril. The man was only a few years older than she was and bore a familial resemblance to her. He had the same honeyed brown eyes, and his close cropped hair was the same shade of blonde. Tall and broad-shouldered, he walked with his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes trained on the ground.

The second woman was a tiny brunette, older than them both, and exuded an aura of authority. She led them up towards the house and stopped a few feet from the porch, eyeing the open door. Her head tilted to the side and she breathed deep through her nostrils. "Do you smell that?" she asked quietly, her accent deep and foreign.

"Yeah," the blonde girl replied with a southern twang. "Smells like vampires."

"What else?"

The girl shrugged, tossing her big hair over her shoulder. "I don't know."

"Try again."

She sighed, harassed.

"Wolves," the boy said suddenly, his voice hoarse.

"Very good, Marcus," the woman replied, turning her large green eyes on him. "Is that all?"

He shrugged. "Smells off."

"Off how?"

He shrugged again. The girl blew hair out of her eyes. "I smell that," she agreed. "Wolf and vampire and… I don't know exactly. Off. Old. Kind of like you."

"You two are getting good at this," the brunette said.

Marcus was not affected by the praise. He looked at the ground. The girl smiled big, like it was the best compliment she'd ever had. The older woman started up the steps. "The scents are not fresh," she went on. "No one is here now."

"I don't get it, Sybil," the girl said bluntly. "How do you know this witch is in trouble?"

"She summoned me."

"Summoned you how, though? Like a spell? What, did you hear voices calling you in the middle of the night?"

"Something like that."

"But why is she summoning _you_? What do you care if some old witch is having problems?"

"Imogene," Sybil scolded. "Be quiet."

Imogene pouted, her full bottom lip poking out as she fell silent. A scowl etched itself in her forehead. Sybil walked through the door of the house and took another deep breath. "He was here," she announced.

"Who was here?" Imogene asked.

"Nicklaus. I smell his stench."

Imogene glanced at Marcus, who gave her a blank stare. He was wont to blank stares and silence, communicating mostly in shrugs and occasional monosyllables. She sighed, and looked back at Sybil.

"That's bad, right?"

"Undoubtedly."

"What's he want with an old witch, anyhow?"

"The question, Imogene, is what _doesn't _he want with an old witch? Regardless of age, witches tend to be _very_ useful."

There was no need for explanations about who Nicklaus was. Sybil had already told them the stories, or at least the parts she deemed necessary for them to know. Still, Imogene sighed loudly. She felt like she was missing some vital piece of information.

Sybil raised her eyebrow at the young woman. "Imogene," she said. "If you cannot be quiet, you can wait in the truck."

Imogene narrowed her eyes at Sybil, but heeded the warning. The three of them padded quietly through the tiny house. There was no need for lights; their eyes adjusted easily to the dark, and they could see every chair, every end table, and every corner clear as day. They made their way into the kitchen at the back.

Sybil stopped suddenly, staring at the mess. The table was overturned, candles and bowls and herbs scattered across the tiles. Black scorch marks stained the white kitchen floor. The stench of vampire and original and witch was strongest here.

"Shit," Imogene whistled. "They took your witch."

"I thought they might have," Sybil murmured. She crossed to the center of the kitchen, frowning around the tiny room. "She would have known they were coming. There should be clues for us to follow."

"Clues to what?"

"I don't know. That's why I need to find the clues."

Silence fell on the kitchen. Sybil began meandering through the room, rifling through papers and books, opening and closing drawers, taking things off shelves and putting them back. Imogene raised an eyebrow at Marcus, who had taken refuge in the doorway, his hands still shoved in his pockets, looking ready to escape at any given moment. He stared back.

"What's the witch's name again?" Imogene asked.

"Mary McCullough," Sybil muttered distractedly.

"And how does she know you?"

Sybil looked over her shoulder at the blonde, her green eyes shining playfully. "You could say I'm an old family friend."

Imogene smirked. "I probably could, but I'd bet I'd be wrong."

Sybil resumed her search. Imogene leaned on the counter and dug through the pockets of her black leather jacket. Finally, she dug out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Don't light that," Sybil warned without turning around.

She sighed harshly. "Sweet Jesus, I just want a smoke. Is that a crime?"

"Your smoke interferes with the smells."

"I can live with that."

Sybil turned and raised an admonishing eyebrow. Imogene sighed again and tucked the cigarettes back into her jacket. "Longest freaking day of my damn life," she grumbled.

Marcus heaved a hoarse chuckle. She glared at him, and he gave her a smirk out of the corner of his mouth.

Sybil righted the kitchen table and climbed on top. It wobbled underneath her weight and Marcus hastened forward to hold it steady. "Thank you, Marcus," she murmured, standing on her toes to reach the bowl shaped ceiling light.

"What the hell do you think is up there?" Imogene asked.

Sybil reached into the glass light fixture and felt around. Moments later, she withdrew her hand, a small brown envelope clutched in her fingers. "Clues," she replied, hopping down from the table and landing easily on her feet.

Marcus let go of the table. Sybil opened the envelope and withdrew a single sheet of white paper. She let the envelope fall back to the tabletop, the letter still held between her fingers. Imogene pushed herself off the counter and swaggered over to stand by Marcus. Sybil read the letter silently, turning slightly away from the other two so they couldn't see the print. Marcus watched her read with his face like stone, never saying a word and barely moving a muscle. Imogene didn't have his patience; she squirmed around, tracing her fingers on the table, sighing every once in awhile.

"What's it say?" she asked finally.

"Mary's been talking with her ancestors," Sybil murmured. "They've been telling her things about the Originals. She thinks Nicklaus is trying to break the sun and the moon curse."

"Talking with her ancestors?" Imogene repeated. "And how in the Sam Hill did she go about doing that?"

Sybil shrugged. "She is a witch. She has her ways."

The answer didn't satisfy Imogene, but she didn't push. She knew enough to understand the severity of the situation. "I thought he needed a doppelganger to break the curse," she said. "I thought the doppelganger line died out."

"According to Mary's dead relatives, that is not true," Sybil replied, an annoyed frown stitching her eyebrows together. "This is why I avoid witches at all costs! They're _sneaky_. Who knows how many generations of McCulloughs knew that the Petrova line had not died out?"

She sounded angry, and her eyes were turning yellow. Imogene shared a nervous look with Marcus. Sybil squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. When her eyes opened again, the yellow glow was gone, but the frown was still etched on her face. She folded up the letter and tucked it into her jacket.

"We are going to Mystic Falls," she announced.

The other two followed her silently out of the house. Sybil's tone left no room for argument.

* * *

><p>Carol Lockwood was not a happy woman.<p>

She marched into the police station for the second time that week, on the warpath. It was early in the morning, and she was tired from the night before – Tyler hadn't come home until nearly two am, and she was ready to wring his neck – but she'd still managed to look more than presentable. Her high heels clacked on the cheap linoleum floor, echoing throughout the station. Officers and secretaries looked up from their desks and stared at her as she stomped on by, making a beeline for Elizabeth Forbes' office.

The blonde woman was sitting at her desk, rubbing her forehead. Carol marched right in and shut the door behind her. Liz looked up at her, startled.

"Did you find the vampire that killed that man yet?" she demanded, tossing her auburn hair.

Liz lowered her eyes to her desk. "I'm afraid not."

"I thought you said the vampire issue was taken care of," Carol pressed. "You told me that raid two nights ago went well. Now there's a body, and you're out of leads again?"

Liz stood up and looked her in the eye. "To be honest, Carol, we're not sure the man was killed by a vampire. His flesh was all ripped up, like something had eaten it."

Carol raised an eyebrow. "Not a vampire?"

The sheriff shook her head. "No. We don't think so."

"Well, then what was it?"

Liz hesitated. She scratched at the back of her neck. "We don't know, honestly. We're still working on it."

"A man is dead, Liz," Carol retorted. "You're going to have to do a lot better than 'we're still working on it.'"

Liz sighed and stared helplessly at the mayor. For a brief moment, Carol felt guilty. Elizabeth Forbes was her friend. More importantly, the woman looked exhausted and downright depressed. She almost cut the sheriff some slack. Then she remembered her husband, and pushed the guilt away.

"I want answers," she said. "And I want them now."

At that moment, the office door swung open and a young deputy poked his blonde head into the room. "Sheriff, we've got a problem."

"What is it, Smith?" Liz asked, heaving another sigh.

The deputy shot hesitant eyes Carol's way. Carol glared at him, her good hand on her hip. "I'm the _mayor_," she pointed out. "Whatever you have to say, just say it."

He swallowed. "The man we found yesterday, Sheriff. He, um… he… well, the thing is…"

"Oh, for crying out loud," Carol interrupted. "What about the man? Did he wake up?"

The man paled at her attempt to make a joke. Carol frowned at him. "Not exactly," he stuttered. "It's just that… well, he's gone."

Carol blinked. "_Gone_?" Liz repeated, her eyes wide.

The deputy nodded. "That's how it stands, yes."

"_That's how it stands_?" Carol echoed dangerously.

"What do you mean, he's gone?" Liz asked. "Was he transferred accidentally, or…?"

"No, ma'am, no transfer," Smith shook his head. "No, he's just… well… I guess the body must have been stolen."

Liz shook her head, her jaw hanging open. "Stolen?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Carol said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "A body was stolen from the morgue in the basement of the _police station?_"

The man shuffled nervously from one foot to the other. "Well, yes, Mayor, ma'am, that's how it stands…"

"Smith," Liz interrupted his ramble. "Get out."

The man obliged, rushing to leave and letting the door slam behind him. Carol turned to Liz, who was wearing an exasperated look that suggested long suffering. She ignored the pained expression, in no mood to be forgiving. "Well, that's just great, Liz," she said. "Your department not only failed to bring in the vampires lurking around town, but now you've managed to lose track of a corpse as well. Fine work."

Liz sighed. "Carol, I'm sorry, but…"

"There are no buts," Carol cut her off. "You need to take a long hard look at how you're running this department, Liz, because so far I am not impressed."

"Are you threatening my job?" Liz demanded.

Carol shrugged. "Whatever gets results."

"I've been sheriff in this town for nearly fifteen years, Carol!"

"And maybe it's time for new blood," the mayor retorted. "My husband had a long list of contacts in his office, Liz. Vampire hunting contacts. I'm getting ready to call one in."

For some reason, panic flickered in the sheriff's eyes. "No, Carol, please don't do that. I'll fix this, I swear. I'll find whatever killed that man and…"

"You better," Carol interrupted. "Or you'll be looking for a new job."

Liz gawked at her helplessly, shaking her head. Carol turned on her high heel and marched out the door.

* * *

><p>Caroline couldn't help wondering why the hell she'd bothered to come to school. It wasn't like she didn't have more important things to be doing, like researching the zombie problem and helping find Stefan, but she couldn't bring herself to blow off school for the zillionth time. More importantly, her mother would have been pissed if she'd skipped, and Caroline was trying her best not to upset her mother any more than she already had.<p>

It was lunchtime now, and she flopped down at Tyler's table with a heavy sigh. "Hi," she chirped.

Tyler looked up at her, his mouth full of mystery meat. "Hey."

"Where is everyone?"

He snorted. "Like they told me."

They were silent for a moment. "Bonnie did say she was going to go to the witches' settlement today," Caroline mused. "I just thought she meant _after_ school."

"I guess school's not really a priority for her at the moment," Tyler pointed out. "Anyway, doesn't everyone think she's dead or something?"

"Or something," Caroline retorted. "Damon already compelled everyone so they'd think Bonnie's disappearance never happened. Oh!" She grinned wide at him. "Hey, I could compel all your teachers into thinking _you_ were here for the past month!"

Tyler raised an eyebrow at her. "No thanks. My mom might get suspicious."

She almost offered to compel his mother too, but stopped herself. Tyler wouldn't want her to do that, just like she never wanted to compel her own mother ever again.

"So…" Caroline murmured. "How's the first day back?"

"It sucks," he replied.

"Lots of work to make up?"

He nodded mutely, shoveling more food in his mouth.

"I could help you," Caroline volunteered with a smile.

"I got it, thanks."

She frowned at him. He was focused on his food. She studied him intently, tilting her head to the side. Something was eating at him, she could tell.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Nothing."

Nothing her ass. God, Tyler was frustrating. She glared at him, but he wouldn't look at her, so the effect was wasted. Maybe it was too much to assume they could automatically be best friends again… well, she wasn't sure he'd been her best friend. That might be an exaggeration. Whatever. The point was that he'd been… kind of different since he came back. Different in a good way, that is, and with just enough normal Tyler so she didn't feel like she was talking to a new person. But right now he was plain old sulky monosyllabic Tyler. He was confusing the crap out of her. Not to mention totally pissing her off.

She heard someone approach the table and looked up at the noise. Matt passed by, trying not to look at them, but she could see the dark glance he threw out the corner of his eye.

"Hey, Matt!" she called, trying to be cheery.

Matt stopped, reluctantly. "Hey," he replied, looking off towards the other end of the cafeteria.

"What's up?" she asked, a wide fake smile plastered on her face.

He shrugged, and scratched the back of his neck. "Nothing really. Look, Caroline, I really have to be somewhere…"

"Right," she murmured, her smile fading. "Sorry. Um… see you later?"

"Sure," Matt replied, already walking away. "Maybe."

He didn't acknowledge Tyler, and Tyler didn't acknowledge him. She guessed they were still bitter about the last full moon; Tyler because Matt had shot him, and Matt because Tyler had tried to eat him.

Caroline sighed and stared at the tabletop. She knew it was over with Matt, and she didn't expect things to ever go back to the way they were, but she had hoped for civility. Maybe even friendliness. And to cut Tyler out of his life? She hadn't expected that at all.

"Should we tell him?" Tyler asked suddenly.

Caroline started and looked up at him. "Tell him what?"

Tyler gave her an incredulous look, raising an eyebrow. "That his sister is alive and running around town, trying to kill people?"

_Vicki_.

It appalled her to think that she hadn't even considered Matt in the zombie equation. Vicki was his _sister_. But for the last day or so, all she'd thought about was Vicki trying to kill Tyler, and trying to kill her, and trying to kill Damon, and Stefan not being around, and her mom finding out the truth, and Elena and Bonnie and Jeremy all needing her…

Caroline swallowed, pressing her knuckles against her lips. She blinked and shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted.

"She's his sister. He kind of deserves to know."

"She's a zombie," Caroline pointed out. "Or something like a zombie. Either way, she's not exactly herself."

Tyler snorted. "I don't know about that."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Anna chick we met last night seemed to be herself. She wasn't running around all rabid. Vicki's just pissed because a lot of us treated her like shit. She's got the right."

Caroline sighed. "Well, Vicki made it a point to visit Jeremy when she first came back. If she wanted to see Matt…"

"We just let her come to him?" Tyler asked. "What if she… I don't know, freaks out on him?"

Caroline thought about that. The idea of Matt getting mauled by his sister made her shiver. Suddenly, she was nauseous. More than anything else, Caroline hated not knowing what to do.

"I'll talk to everyone else," she said after awhile. "See what they think."

Tyler didn't look satisfied by that answer. "Who cares what they think?"

"We do."

"_You_ do. They're _your_ friends."

Caroline blinked at him. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was practically glaring at her. Suddenly, she saw him with absolute clarity. She understood the reason he was being all bitchy.

"Tyler, they're your friends too."

"No, they're not," he retorted. "I hate Damon and Damon hates me. Until yesterday, Mr. Saltzman was _just_ my history teacher. Bonnie's never really liked me, and Elena tolerates me out of pity."

"Jeremy's your friend," she offered half-heartedly.

"Yeah, right," Tyler scoffed. "Gilbert was my dealer. Then he used me to get information about that stupid rock. Most of the time, we hate each other."

"Well, before everything that happened, I wasn't your biggest fan either," Caroline snapped. "I'm your friend now."

He glared at her. She took a deep breath, trying to regain control of the conversation before it turned into an argument. "Tyler," she sighed. "I know you don't want to trust us, but we're all we have. You, me, and the rest… If we don't stick together, someone's going to get hurt."

"People get hurt anyway," he pointed out sullenly, glowering at his lunch tray.

"Tyler…"

"My best friend hates me," he said. "And I can't even really blame him because I'm pretty sure I tried to eat him."

Caroline fell silent. Tyler picked at his leftovers. She threaded her fingers together nervously, and then unthreaded them just for something to do. It wasn't that she didn't understand; she knew _exactly_ how he felt.

"He hates me too," she murmured. "I was his _girlfriend, _and he said he loved me, and now he hates me too."

"He doesn't hate you," Tyler grumbled.

"Well, he can't stand to be around me," she retorted. "He can't handle what I am, or whatever that means. So… it all amounts to the same thing."

Tyler didn't say anything, and Caroline flopped back in her chair, sighing. God, she hated all this drama. She'd wanted to have a nice, normal, middle of the school day, lunchtime conversation with her friend, not talk about the angst-ridden horror show that was her life.

"I think we should tell him," Tyler announced. "I feel weird knowing his sister isn't dead anymore when he doesn't."

It was the way he said it that made her agree. He tried to make it sound careless and casual. He tried to sound like it was all about him. But deep down, she knew Tyler really cared about Matt. She really cared about Matt too.

"Ok," she murmured. "Not now, though. I need to give everyone else the heads up first."

She expected him to argue again, but he just nodded. "Ok," he agreed.

They were silent for too long. Tyler went back to picking at his food, and Caroline stared at the movements of his plastic fork, poking at the unappetizing meat on the Styrofoam tray.

"Hey," she spoke up, grinning. She was desperate to change the subject and lift the mood. "All the crazy stuff aside? The being friends with your history teacher part _totally_ pays. If you can't finish your history assignment, all you have to do is pull Ric aside and say, 'werewolf emergency.' He'll totally let you slide."

"I had him earlier today," Tyler replied. "He was drunk. At ten in the morning."

Caroline nodded, her smile fading. "Yeah. I think we need to have an intervention or something."

He grinned at her. "Why? Personally, I think he's got the right idea."

She couldn't help laughing. "Well, a little scotch with breakfast _would_ take the edge off. Still…" Her smile faded again. "I'm kind of worried about him."

"You worry about everyone," he pointed out. It should have been a playful poke at her neurotic tendencies, but it came out wrong. She frowned at Tyler's tone. It was… _kind_. Almost _fond_. It… totally creeped her out. She refused to dwell on it.

The bell rang, and they headed to their afternoon classes. Supernatural drama and strange, out-of-character Tyler moment aside, Caroline felt slightly better now that all the Matt and Vicki stuff – not to mention Tyler's trust issues – had been discussed and laid out in the open. She might have had a good day if it hadn't been for the text from her mother.

_Body missing. Afraid whatever killed that man turned him too. We need to talk._

Just like that, her happy bubble popped, and Caroline was back to feeling like absolute crap.

* * *

><p>Seriously, they should all just drop out of school, Bonnie decided as she trudged out of the woods, headed for the old witches' mansion. They'd missed enough of it, after all, what with the constant Klaus emergencies and kidnappings and faked deaths. Now, she was skipping school again in order to commune with dead witches, and Elena had skipped too, because she'd insisted on being there. Damon was with them, and Jeremy was back at the Gilbert house, also skipping school, because after all, someone needed to keep an eye on Anna.<p>

She inhaled the forest air, feeling the mud under the tall grass sucking at the bottoms of her shoes. The sky overhead was gray, the black branches of all the dead trees standing out vividly against the clouds. Elena was squishing in the mud behind her, and Bonnie didn't need to turn around to know that Damon had taken hold of her arm so he could lead her through the undergrowth.

Bonnie contemplated setting him on fire – just a little fire, for a very brief moment – so he'd take his hands off of her best friend. She didn't though; it wouldn't do any good. There was enough animosity in their little group already, and setting Damon on fire would only accomplish upsetting Elena.

The old decaying white mansion loomed ahead of them. The exterior was streaked with dirt and soot, and all the decorative architectural work was weathered and falling down. The windows that weren't broken were cloudy with dirt and dust. But the moment Bonnie stepped through the front door of the mansion, she felt power rushing through her veins.

The air was electric and her skin sang with the voltage, the hairs on her arms standing up straight. She felt a cold wind lift her curly black hair off her neck. Bonnie took a deep breath and pressed further into the mansion, feeling Elena at her shoulder.

"Should I be in here?" Damon asked, his voice coming from some distance behind them.

Bonnie shrugged and didn't turn around. "I don't know, Damon. Do you feel anything burning?"

"Ha-ha," he grumbled. She heard his footsteps echo behind them. He was following them anyway.

Bonnie could hear the walls whispering. A hundred dead witches were hissing at her, but she couldn't make out the words. A chill ran down her spine, and it felt like a warning.

When she shivered, Elena threaded her arm through hers and gave her a squeeze. "Is something wrong?" she asked quietly.

Bonnie frowned, shaking her head. "I'm not sure. I can't make out what they're saying."

Finally, she reached the dark, musty room where she did her spells, Elena still gripping her arm. Damon entered behind them, his boots shuffling against the worn, dusty floor.

_Bang!_ She heard the door slam. Elena jumped.

"We get it, you're pissed!" Damon hollered at the spirits. "Enough with the _Poltergeist _shenanigans."

"Be quiet, Damon," Bonnie scolded in an undertone. She let go of Elena's arm and circled the room, magically lighting the candles she'd left behind.

The witches were still whispering. Bonnie moved to the center of the circle of candles and shut her eyes.

"What are you going to do?" Elena asked quietly.

"Try to communicate," Bonnie replied. "I need you both to stand with me. We all have to hold hands."

Damon snorted. "What is this, a slumber party?"

Bonnie's eyes flew open and she glared at the vampire. "Do you want answers or not?"

He rolled his eyes, but ambled to her side. Elena joined them in the circle, and all three of them gripped hands. Bonnie shut her eyes again and lifted her head towards the ceiling. In a low voice she began to mutter a Latin chant. It was an old spell from her grandmother's Grimoire, written for the sole purpose of talking to the dead.

As she chanted, the whispers grew louder and more frantic. She frowned, still muttering her spell. She could make out the whispers now - the warnings… _go… leave… not welcome here…_

Sharp pain exploded in her forehead. Bonnie cried out, stumbling forward. Both Elena and Damon's hands tightened on hers. "Bonnie!" Elena exclaimed. "What's wrong? What's happening?"

Bonnie pressed on through the pain. "Please!" she called to the witches. "I need you to talk to me! I need to understand!"

The hissing rang in her ears, all the words the same: _go… leave… not welcome…_

She felt warm liquid trickling out her nose and rolling down her upper lip. The pain in her head intensified. Wincing, Bonnie cried out, "Emily! Emily, I need you! Why did you send them?"

"Bonnie!" Elena's worried voice broke through the whispers of the witches. She ignored her, focusing on their murmuring, feeling her blood dripping down her face.

"Emily," Bonnie repeated. "What's wrong with me? _Talk to me!_"

The whispers turned to screams, and Bonnie felt a throbbing in her eardrums. There was a splitting, stabbing pain in her head, and she fell to her knees with a shriek, her hands slipping from Damon and Elena's grip.

As she pitched forward, about to land face-first on the floor, she felt Elena's thin arms wrap around her. Her head fell onto her best friend's shoulder as her strength failed her and the screaming stopped.

"Bonnie!" Elena was crying, shaking her. "Bonnie, please!"

She felt Damon's cool hand on her neck. "Witch," he growled.

"Will she be ok?" Elena asked him.

"Talk to us, witch," Damon pressed, ignoring the question.

"Bonnie?" Elena demanded. "Damon, should you give her some blood?"

Suddenly, Bonnie was awake. "No!" she cried out in a raspy voice, trying to sit up straight. "No. No blood. I'm fine."

Elena took her arms and pushed her into a sitting position. Damon gripped her shoulders and produced a handkerchief, pressing it to her bleeding nose. Bonnie took it from him and dabbed at the mess on her face with a shaking hand.

"What happened?" Elena asked, brushing Bonnie's hair with her hand.

Bonnie looked at her friend. Elena's big brown eyes were shining with unshed, worried tears. She closed her eyes, trying to remember the screams; the last words the witches had been willing to speak.

"They said I've been abusing my powers," she croaked. "They told me not to come back."

"But what about Anna and Vicki?" Elena pressed.

Bonnie shook her head. "They were muttering about consequences. They told me I wasn't going to get any more help."

"Your magic?"

She shook her head again. "They kept telling me to leave. Now no one's talking."

"But Emily…?"

"I didn't hear her," Bonnie whispered. "She didn't say anything at all."

Elena rubbed her back. Damon snorted, getting to his feet. "Great," he drawled. He turned in a circle, and then kicked the wall, shattering the wood. "Thanks for nothing, Emily!" he bellowed at the ceiling, flailing his arms around angrily.

"Let's just go," Bonnie murmured. "We're not wanted here."

It was a cold, terrifying feeling, the witches' rejection. The mansion used to feed her power; it used to make her feel welcomed and strong. Now she felt nothing. It was just an old, empty house.

Elena stood up and took Bonnie's hands, helping her off the floor. She stumbled, her knees going weak, and Elena barely managed to hold her up. Damon kicked at the wall again, grumbling. "There's something wrong with my magic," Bonnie said. "I think they took away the power I'd harnessed from them. I'm flying solo now."

She felt utterly useless and completely drained. The witches had refused to talk and then kicked her out of their house. They hadn't even let her ask about Stefan. She felt like she'd let Elena down, but her friend didn't say anything about it. Elena just helped her stand straight and comfortingly rubbed her back.

Damon, meanwhile, was having a tantrum. He was still flailing about the room, kicking the walls and breaking the old furniture that was lying around. Not that it mattered; most of it was broken already. She watched him through narrowed eyes, for once not caring about his disrespectful little scenes. He could destroy whatever he wanted to; she didn't care anymore.

After a while, he stopped, his shoulders heaving as he panted. Then he turned to glare at her and Elena.

"It's time to go, Damon," Elena told him.

He glared at her, but Elena just stared calmly back. Damon rolled his eyes and straightened up, cracking his neck. Then he crossed over to them and took charge of Bonnie. Elena led the way out and Damon supported Bonnie towards the door.

As they left the mansion and crossed the tangled grass, headed back for the woods, Bonnie glanced over her shoulder at the mansion one last time. A sudden gust of wind whipped across the property. With a loud echoing bang_,_ the front door slammed shut.

* * *

><p>"Am I your personal chauffeur or something? Seriously, how long am I going to be hauling your ass all over town?"<p>

Caroline didn't even look up from her phone as she reached across the cab of Tyler's truck and slugged him in the shoulder. "Shut up!"

He smirked, eyes on the road as he steered the truck through the afterschool traffic in downtown Mystic Falls. "You're mooching, Forbes."

"Have you not been with me for the past thirty-six hours?" Caroline retorted. "When have I had time to fix my car?"

Tyler chuckled. He didn't know why he wasn't more pissed off that he'd been shanghaied into driving Caroline to the police station because the zombie victim in the morgue had gotten up and walked away. He should be pissed – walking corpse and all. Still, all sarcastic commentary aside, he really didn't mind.

Caroline sighed beside him, tucking her phone into her purse. "Elena texted me. They went to the settlement, but the witches weren't talking. Bonnie passed out again."

"Great," Tyler drawled. "So… we're screwed?"

"Pretty much," Caroline shrugged.

Tyler turned the corner. Cars flew past him on the left. The sky was overcast, but there was still tons of afterschool foot traffic downtown. Students were striding up and down the sidewalks, crowding the square, and filtering in and out of the Mystic Grille. Tyler pulled the truck into an available space at the curb, between an old maroon Buick and a police cruiser. He hopped down from the cab at the same time Caroline did, and then joined her on the sidewalk.

"I'm going to head into the station and talk to my mom," Caroline told him. "I'll be quick; go wait for me in the Grille."

Tyler raised his eyebrow. "Why can't I come in with you?"

Caroline tried to laugh his question away. "You don't have to; it'll be super boring, and my mom will be super annoying… seriously, I can just fill you in later."

He smirked, leaning towards her. "Your mom hates me, doesn't she?"

"No," Caroline said too quickly.

He raised his eyebrow again. Caroline sighed and rolled her eyes. "She totally hates you."

Tyler nodded. "Most moms do."

Of course, most moms didn't hate him because he was a werewolf who could kill their vampire daughter with one bite. Most moms didn't hate him because his mother was the mayor who was currently making their life a living hell.

"Go wait for me in the Grille," Caroline said again. She winked at him. "Get some French fries."

"All right. Hurry up."

She made a face at him, and then jogged up the steps to the station door. Tyler turned away and headed down the sidewalk. Suddenly, he froze.

A strangely familiar scent hit his nostrils. It smelled like dirt and sweat and wild animal. He knew that smell; he'd smelled it for a month straight. It was a strange scent to pick up in Mystic Falls.

He smelled a werewolf.

Tyler looked all around him, frowning at the passersby, trying to find the wolf in the crowd. He looked over his shoulder, just in time to be jostled in the arm. An electric jolt ran through his nervous system.

He whirled around to see who had brushed past him. It was a young woman in ripped up jeans, sauntering down the sidewalk. Her hair was dark blonde and extremely high and curly, in that kinky porn star way. Tyler tried to follow her, but the crowd of pedestrians kept getting in his way.

The girl stopped suddenly on the other side of the Mystic Grille. She turned around and looked at him. Tyler stared at her, his dark eyes boring into her brown ones. The blonde smirked. She freaking _winked_ at him.

Then she disappeared down the alley beside the Mystic Grille.

Tyler ran as fast as he could without alerting the entire town to his superhuman speed, but it didn't matter. By the time he reached the alley, it was deserted. He turned down the alley anyway, following the lingering scent, hoping to catch her again. It was pointless. The wolf was gone.

He knew without a doubt that the blonde girl was a werewolf. He couldn't explain it; he just _knew_, the way he also knew that he had to find her. Being the only werewolf in town was lonely, and he was still new. Jules was gone, and Mason was gone, and he had questions that needed answers.

But most importantly, he had to find out what the strange blonde werewolf was doing in Mystic Falls. Because the last time werewolves had come to town? Nothing good had followed.


	6. Werewolves of London

On the Origin of Species

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I am not associated with anything _Vampire Diaries_, and I make no profit off this fan fiction. Also, I stole the title from Charles Darwin. Don't sue, please… I've got nothing but some pocket change and a car that won't start.

Summary: After Elijah's betrayal, another Original comes to Mystic Falls to kill the hybrid, and discovers that history is about to repeat itself. Set post season 2 finale. Forwood first and foremost, but I love all the other characters and their relationships too much not to play with those too… and those could end up going anywhere.

AN: Big thanks to Nova802, bianca08, AllCreator, plausible deniability, JYLlian, SusanXG, Alex, and Bee03 for the reviews!

* * *

><p>Chapter 5: Werewolves of London<p>

Caroline marched out of the police station, totally stressed.

The body was missing from the morgue. Her mother was frantic. Carol Lockwood was on the warpath. And Caroline was beyond freaking out.

Her assumption was that the body had been Vicki's handiwork. Anna had attacked someone too, but she'd covered her tracks – something Caroline didn't think Vicki would have done. She was too impulsive, and she didn't seem to be thinking clearly. Caroline vividly remembered what that felt like and sometimes the memories still made her hyperventilate.

According to Elena, Vicki had been a vampire for barely a week when Stefan staked her. She'd had no time to learn impulse control. Unsurprisingly, she still didn't have any. Caroline sighed, digging her phone out of her purse and sending Elena a text.

_Ask Anna where she buried the body. Go dig it up. Vicki's dinner might have come back to life._

She tucked her phone in her bag and continued down the sidewalk, ready to eat something at the Grille and do mindless chatter with Tyler.

But Tyler didn't look like he was in the mood for mindless chatter, she quickly realized. He was pacing in front of the Grille, his dark eyes impatient, with his hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Tyler?" she asked, stopping outside the Grille's front window.

"I saw a werewolf," he announced.

Caroline automatically glanced around for eavesdroppers, and then leaned into him. "What?" she hissed.

He looked around them too before answering. "I was headed to the Grille," he explained. "I smelled a werewolf."

Caroline swallowed, hating how on edge the word werewolf made her. The idea of a werewolf that wasn't Tyler strutting around Mystic Falls worried her. She didn't have the best track record with wolves.

"You smelled a werewolf?" she repeated.

He nodded. "And I was looking for her, and then she brushed against me in the crowd…"

"She?" Caroline interrupted. "How do you know it was a she?"

"Because when she brushed against me, I felt something," Tyler elaborated impatiently. Caroline bristled at his explanation, but he didn't seem to notice. "It was like this weird jolt – I just _knew_ she was the wolf. I watched her walk off towards the Grille, and I tried to follow her, but she just vanished down the alley."

Caroline swallowed. "Are you sure?" she asked slowly. "I mean, you didn't talk to her or anything, and the smell might have been…"

"Look, I hate saying this," he cut her off. "Because it makes me sound like a dog, but my nose doesn't lie, Caroline. I smelled werewolf, and then this strange girl appeared, and she looked at me."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "She looked at you."

"She didn't just _look_, she gave me this smirk, like she knew what I was too, and then… then she _winked_ at me."

Caroline took a deep breath and lowered her eyes to the sidewalk. Tyler was staring at her with these desperate brown eyes, and it was making her uncomfortable. She hated it when he looked at her like that; it made her feel like she had to do something, and she had no idea what to do.

"I don't who she is, or what she wants," Tyler summed up. "But she was definitely a werewolf. I'm not alone here anymore."

She knew deep down that he hadn't meant to insult her, but the words still felt like a slap in the face. "You're not alone, Tyler," she snapped. "We have your back, whether you want to trust that or not. You don't need another werewolf."

He blinked at her tone, and then narrowed his eyes. "I didn't mean it like that," he retorted. "But you don't know what it's like; none of you deal with what I deal with. You have answers to your questions whenever you want them, but I don't, Caroline. I don't know nearly enough about what I am, and none of you are in a position to tell me anything."

"We'll help you look for answers!" Caroline exclaimed, her voice getting too high and too loud. Tyler shushed her, looking around them furtively.

"Just stop," he hissed. "I'm not throwing you over for the mystery wolf. All right? I'm just saying, there's another one here now, and I think we need to find her."

Caroline folded her arms across her chest and tightened her lips. "So she can answer all your questions?" she asked snidely.

He sighed harshly. "No, so we can figure out why she's here and what she wants. I don't know about you, but it's been my experience that when mysterious supernatural creatures pop up in Mystic Falls, they always have an ulterior motive."

She relaxed a little at that. He had a point. Every time a new vampire or a pack of werewolves showed up, bad things happened… which was what made staying as far away from the wolf girl as possible such a good idea. She didn't think Tyler would go for that, though, and for some reason that bothered her. She wasn't sure why. The last thing their friendship needed was another Jules, she tried to rationalize, but that reasoning rang hollow.

"All right," she breathed. "Ok. We'll look for her. But right now I think we have other problems."

"Like what?"

Caroline widened her eyes meaningfully at him. "Don't make me say the z-word."

Tyler frowned. "Right. What did your mom say?"

Caroline sighed and shrugged. "That the body we looked at yesterday is missing, and your mom is pissed."

"How pissed?"

"My mom didn't go into detail. She just… looks really upset, Tyler. I don't know what to do."

Tyler swallowed and studied her. Caroline squirmed under his hard eyes. "I texted Elena," she said. "Told her about the body. I think we're going to have to find the body Anna buried too. If _this_ body got up and walked away, then maybe _her_ body…"

"Great," Tyler breathed. "So… we really are about to have a zombie apocalypse on our hands?"

"Shh," she scolded, smacking him in the arm and looking around them. No one was standing nearby or even glancing in their direction. Tyler rubbed his arm.

"Sorry," he grumbled.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, more than ready to change the subject. "Do you want to go inside?"

He shrugged. "I don't think so."

She nodded, trying not to show her disappointment. Caroline wanted a distraction more than anything at that moment, but Tyler had his own sudden revelation to deal with, and she wouldn't blame him if he'd lost his appetite.

He turned away in the direction of his truck. Caroline glanced forlornly at the Grille. Matt was inside, busing a table, and staring at her. When she made eye contact, he started in surprise, looking guilty. She smiled bright and waved.

Matt waved back, half-heartedly. Then he picked up his dish bin and walked away.

Caroline sighed, now twice as discontented, and followed Tyler back to his truck.

* * *

><p>The woods were cool and smelled of dirt and damp. Sybil stepped over high, gnarled roots, picking her way back to her campsite with an armload of logs. She breathed in the forest air, mentally separating all the smells... the mud, the decomposing fallen trees, the squirrel digging in the dirt to her left. Her small, beat up trailer and red pickup were parked a few feet ahead, under several tall, arching trees. The trees reached up and over the forest floor, their dark green leaves blotting out the sun. A narrow dirt path ran past the trailer and out of the woods.<p>

Sybil rounded the back of the trailer, leaving soft, half footprints in the loose, moist dirt. She dumped the pile of logs outside her trailer door for Marcus and Imogene. The young wolves ran hot, like she did, but it could get cold at night in the middle of the woods.

Marcus was setting up the small, tan tent to the left of the trailer. He wasn't talking much, but he never did. If Sybil were to speak openly, she'd have to admit he worried her. His silence, his disinterest, and the constant sadness in his eyes made her think he would never adjust to his new life – and that was a shame. He was actually very strong, and had the potential to be an excellent werewolf.

But nothing held his interest and nothing made him smile – except for his younger sister.

As the thought crossed Sybil's mind, she heard the rattle of Imogene's beat up old car in the distance. Soon enough, the rusty El Camino appeared, shaking violently as Imogene navigated it over the mud and the roots in the dirt path.

She parked the car beside Sybil's truck and hopped out with a big smile on her face and a brown bag in her hands. "Got food," she announced, tossing the bag at Sybil, who caught it in annoyance. Imogene reached inside the bag while Sybil was still holding it and dug out a carton of Marlboros.

"I hate when you smoke," Sybil said.

Imogene shrugged. "And I hate sleeping in a tent. Life's a bitch."

Sybil glowered at Imogene's back as the young wolf sauntered towards her pickup. She ought to teach the girl some respect, but Sybil didn't like disciplining her puppies. As a result, Imogene got away with far too much.

Marcus gave up on the tent and came over to check out the contents of the grocery bag. Imogene hopped into the bed of Sybil's truck, fumbling with the cigarette carton and grinning at Sybil and Marcus. "Guess what I found?" she chirped, sounding like a little girl.

Marcus raised an eyebrow at his sister. Sybil set the brown bag on the ground and began to rifle through it. "What?" she asked disinterestedly.

"A werewolf."

That caught Sybil's attention. She slowly stood up and frowned at the young woman. Marcus's jaw dropped. "A wolf?" he repeated, his voice a raw whisper.

Imogene nodded enthusiastically. "I tell you, the whole damn town might reek like vampires, but we've got at least one wolf in our midst. I saw him by the town square." She winked, smirking. "He was drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's and his hair was perfect."

Sybil raised her eyebrow at her, while Marcus merely rolled his eyes. "Seriously though," Imogene went on, digging a pack of cigarettes out from the carton. "He was definitely tall dark and handsome, you know? Practically sex on legs."

"Gross," Marcus rasped, making a face. The look of disgust vanished when he found a six pack at the bottom of the grocery bag.

"Did he see you?" Sybil asked suspiciously.

"Yep," Imogene shrugged. "I tried to stay downwind, but then the damn wind shifted. He caught my scent, and I decided to go with it. Why hide, anyhow? It'll just make him suspicious."

"You spoke to him?"

"Nah. Just brushed up against his arm a little bit, gave him a wink." She paused to light a cigarette. Sybil folded her arms sternly over her chest, the information only further aggravating her. Imogene was always too reckless. The other woman picked up the story again. "He knew what I was, though, I could tell. Surprising, honestly, because I think he was a newborn."

"You're a very silly girl, Imogene," Sybil scolded, narrowing her eyes at her young charge.

"Eh," Imogene shrugged unconcernedly, taking a drag on her cigarette. "But at least I have fun." She grinned again. "Trust me, Sybil. You're really going to want to meet him."

Sybil raised her eyebrow again. "And why is that?" she asked dryly.

"He was chatting up this pretty blonde girl. I caught her scent too, and she wasn't human."

"Oh?" Sybil returned, her eyebrow still raised. "And what was she?"

The wicked grin on Imogene's face grew. "A vampire."

Marcus choked slightly on the beer he'd nabbed from the grocery bag. "Vampire?" he repeated quietly.

Imogene's head bobbed up and down in excitement. "Yep. He must be lonely, hanging around with a vampire girl. Don't blame him; I think he's the only wolf in town."

Sybil didn't like the sound of that at all. A lonely wolf, possibly a newborn, who had taken up with a _vampire_ in the town where Sybil had come to find _Nicklaus_? An all too familiar, protective instinct rose within her as she listened to Imogene's prattle.

"The werewolf was with a vampire?" she asked slowly. "And they were… friendly?"

"Yep. It was weird. So, are we going to ask him to join the pack? I think he's a stray."

"A stray with a vampire friend," Sybil retorted. "He might not be trustworthy."

"He's a wolf," Imogene shrugged. "Probably just needs a little information, that's all. He'd come around."

"You don't know that," Sybil chastised. Imogene raised an eyebrow at her and took another drag on her cigarette.

"So we're not going to do anything?" she asked skeptically.

"I'm going to need more information," Sybil explained. "If a vampire is befriending a werewolf, it can only be because she wants something. Maybe he's a harmless puppy, but he still needs a reason to trust me more than her. Vampires can be very convincing when they want to be."

Imogene sighed harshly. "You always _say_ you're on the lookout for strays, and now that you've got one, you don't want to take him in."

"I want to be cautious. If you could follow him some more – _without getting caught this time_ – and find out more about him and the vampire girl, I might approach him and offer him my help."

The young werewolf huffed loudly and took another long drag on her cigarette. "Oh come on, this pack ain't my charity case, it's yours. No skin off my nose if you don't want the puppy around."

Sybil leaned against her trailer and thought for a moment. Marcus took a swig of his beer, and then hopped into the bed of the pickup, taking a seat beside his sister. Imogene flicked her cigarette butt into the woods, and then lit another one.

Marcus raised an eyebrow at her as she took a heavy drag on the new cigarette and darted his eyes towards the woods. Imogene groaned. "Who the hell do you think you are, Smokey the Bear?"

"Go pick it up," Sybil ordered.

Imogene heaved the sigh of a person long harassed and then hopped down from the pickup, mumbling things under her breath as she marched after her discarded cigarette.

It was unnerving, to hear of a puppy in this town. It further upset her that the puppy was apparently without a protector, and had been targeted by a vampire. Sybil didn't like it but she wasn't sure what to do. If the vampire had successfully manipulated the new werewolf into thinking she was his friend, he might not be responsive to her help. But if she just let the vampire take advantage of him… that was no good either.

There was a loud _thump_ as Imogene vaulted back into the pickup bed. "So, what are we doing?" she wanted to know.

"Did you find anything out about him?" Sybil asked.

Imogene shrugged. "A little. There was this gossipy little group of cheerleaders next to me, talking about them both. Called wolf boy Tyler Lockwood and vampire girl Caroline Forbes. That's all I heard. The one girl… she had a name like a poodle? Fifi or Foofoo or something like that…"

Marcus heaved a disbelieving chuckle. "Anyway, she kept calling vampire girl a slut," Imogene went on. "It got boring, so I stopped listening. Oh! Tiki. I remember now. Her name was Tiki."

Marcus shook his head, lifting his brows challengingly. Imogene nodded slowly, her eyes wide and innocent. "I'm serious," she promised him, sucking down on her cigarette, and then blowing smoke in his face.

"The name of your source is irrelevant," Sybil rolled her eyes. "Are you sure she said Lockwood?"

"Yep," Imogene replied. "Why? Somebody you know?"

Sybil shrugged. Imogene studied her, hard. The hard look was one of the reasons Sybil tolerated the wolf girl. She was wild, plenty disrespectful, and said many silly, annoying things… plus, the cloud of smoke was painful to deal with day in and day out… but under her joking exterior, the girl was observant. She knew when she was being lied to, or when someone was being purposely vague. It came in handy… except, of course, when Imogene was certain that Sybil was the liar.

"He's the mayor's kid, if that means anything," Imogene offered. "I heard that much before I couldn't stand to listen anymore."

Sybil nodded. "Every little bit helps. We'll keep an eye on him; see what we can learn… I'll offer to help him, eventually. Even if he's not receptive, I'd hate to stand by and do nothing while some vampire takes advantage of a clueless puppy."

Imogene shrugged, looking unimpressed. "He didn't seem that clueless."

He wouldn't be, naturally. He was a Lockwood, and Sybil knew firsthand about Lockwoods. She pushed herself off the trailer and sighed, knowing now was the worst time to adopt a new pack member, and yet she was unable to walk away from the Lockwood werewolf. "Regardless, I will talk to him," she announced. "We will look around town some more and try to catch Nicklaus's scent again. I need to know what is going on here. But I will talk to him, tomorrow even. He needs our help."

Imogene was giving her that hard look again, and Sybil wondered if she had noticed the difference the name Lockwood had made. If she did, she didn't say anything. "Awesome," Imogene said after a while, smirking again. "We're getting a puppy."

She smiled softly at the young wolf's words. Compared to Sybil, they were _all_ puppies.

* * *

><p>Jeremy picked his way through the tall grass around the ruins of Fell's church. It was dark out by the cemetery, far away from the streetlamps in town, and the stars seemed brighter here. The half moon hung in the sky, and he could pick out constellations in the stars against the dark navy backdrop. The light of the moon illuminated the wild land ahead of him, turning the tall grass blue.<p>

Anna led the way past the ruins towards the line of trees several feet behind the old church and the tomb beneath it. He followed the silver blob of moonlight shining on the back of her black hair, clutching his shovel tight in his fingers. Behind him, also armed with a shovel, Alaric trudged through the tall grass too.

It was surreal to be following Anna anywhere, but particularly out here, where the darkness and the moonlight and the graves of old Mystic Falls citizens turned everything into a spooky movie set. Jeremy still had trouble believing his eyes as he watched her move through the grass. He'd had trouble believing his hands when he took her in his arms the night before and comforted her over the death she had already caused.

Anna had not reacted to the news about the other zombie victim and how his body had mysteriously vanished from the morgue. When Jeremy had told her that they needed to find the body she'd buried, she'd merely nodded and flashed a ghost of a smile. "All right," she'd agreed. "We'll go tonight."

Alaric had insisted on joining the two of them, and it bothered Jeremy. It wasn't that he wanted to be alone with Anna. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy Alaric's company. But he knew the reason Alaric had come was because he didn't trust Anna. Jeremy didn't like it. She was trying, wasn't she? Was it her fault she'd been brought back from the dead? All she needed was time to relearn impulse control. All she needed was someone who could be understanding, who could let her try to fit in with the world again. Whatever she was – vampire, zombie, something freaky the witches had thought up – she was still _Anna_ and that had to count for something.

He'd really missed Anna, and he refused to be upset that she was back from the dead.

They reached the trees. "It's right through here," Anna whispered, stepping into the woods, and pulling back some of the tall grass.

She gave a little gasp as the moonlight shone on her burial site. Jeremy stepped up beside her, Alaric on his heels, and surveyed the spot in question. Loose dirt had been kicked about haphazardly, turned up like a badly plowed field, with narrow finger tracks clawed into the ground around the collapsing hole in the center. Alaric whistled in Jeremy's ear.

"Well, I guess we don't need shovels after all," he drawled.

"He's gone," Anna whispered, as though she couldn't believe the turn of events. As though she'd never thought the other dead body had any correlation to the one she'd buried, as though she'd never truly believed the body might be gone.

"Yeah," Jeremy agreed, eyes wide as he surveyed the scene. He put a comforting hand on Anna's arm. "Yeah, he is."

She looked up at him, her teeth worrying her lower lip. "I don't understand," she said. "I didn't do anything weird to him. I just… I just… I just _fed_."

Jeremy swallowed. "Maybe that's all it takes," he murmured. "Maybe there's some kind of venom in your fangs."

She snorted, raising an eyebrow. "Venom in my fangs? What is this, Twilight? That's not how people get turned into…"

"Vampires," Alaric interrupted. "That's not how people get turned into vampires. You're not a vampire anymore. We don't know what you are."

Anna blinked, looking stung by the words. It was the truth, Jeremy knew this, but Alaric didn't need to be so harsh.

She sank to her knees in the dirt and stared at the hole. Jeremy glared at Alaric before kneeling next to her. "Hey," he said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "It'll be all right, ok? We'll figure it out."

"You don't get it, Jer," she practically growled. "I'm _hungry._ I'm hungry right now, and I've been trying to eat all day. I raided your kitchen, I ate _everything_, and the hunger won't go away."

He almost flinched at the way her dark eyes narrowed and flashed. Instead of backing away, he tightened his grip on her shoulder. "So you need flesh," he replied, somehow saying it as though her diet was perfectly normal. "We can get you flesh. There's a graveyard back there."

"I want _your_ flesh," she admitted, scooting away from him. She refused to lift her eyes from the ground.

"Well, before you wanted my blood," Jeremy shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"And what if I can't eat dead flesh?" she snapped at him. "What if I can only eat live flesh, and every time I do, I make another… whatever I am! What then?"

Jeremy shook his head, taking a step towards her and kneeling at her side again. "It won't happen like that," he assured her, although he had nothing to base his declaration on. Anna knew it too, and she was less than impressed. Her lips got tight and she shook her head.

"It could," she insisted. "I'm dangerous, Jeremy. You shouldn't be helping me."

He laughed a little. "You know it's going to take more than that to scare me away, right?"

"More than what?" she retorted. "More than me eating people? More than me turning everything I eat into a zombie? What exactly scares you away, Jeremy? Why don't you have any sense of self preservation? Look at the other girl! Look at Vicki! She's running around town, _trying_ to kill people! I could be that!"

Jeremy shook his head. "Vicki's confused, that's all. We'll find her, and I'll talk to her, and we'll help her too."

Anna shook her head helplessly. "Jer," she whispered. "It's not going to be that easy."

Jeremy shrugged. "What is?"

"Once your new girlfriend realizes what she's created, she's going to want to kill me," Anna told him.

He shook his head. "No. Bonnie wouldn't do that."

Alaric snorted behind him. Jeremy shot him another glare. "Shut up, Ric."

"He's right," Anna said. "She will kill me, Jeremy. They'll all want to kill me. He does, don't you?"

Jeremy stared at Alaric. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Not _kill_ exactly…"

"Ric," Jeremy hissed.

"It's ok, Jer," Anna murmured. "It's only natural that…"

"Stop," he cut her off. "We're going to find a way. I mean, Anna, you just came back! I'm barely used to the idea that you're around again, and I can't…

He trailed off, swallowing hard. Anna took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm hungry," she said again. "Maybe you should stand back."

Jeremy gawked at her as she clenched her eyelids together and fisted her hands in the dirt. Slowly, he got to his feet and backed away.

"Why don't we dig something up?" he asked quietly.

Alaric cleared his throat awkwardly. Jeremy looked at him over his shoulder, and Alaric fell silent, looking off in another direction and swinging his shovel loosely in one hand. Anna opened her eyes and looked up at him sadly.

"Ok."

* * *

><p>Elena's eyes were on her cell phone as she trudged downstairs to answer the door. The doorbell rang a second time as she took the steps, and she rolled her eyes. "Coming!" she called.<p>

Her phone showed no messages and no texts, not from anyone, especially not Stefan.

Sighing, she tucked her phone away and opened the front door. Caroline was standing on the front stoop, smiling brightly. "Hey!" she said. "Uh… did you guys go check out Anna's…"

"Anna took Jeremy and Alaric out there just a little while ago," Elena interrupted. "I haven't heard anything."

Caroline nodded, her smile fading. "Right. Sorry, I just…"

"Need something to tell your mom?"

She nodded again.

Elena stepped back from the door so Caroline could come inside. "Why don't you come in and wait until they get back?" she offered. "Bonnie will be by soon. She wants to try some sort of spell in my bathroom."

Caroline blinked, crinkling her nose incredulously. "In your bathroom?"

Elena shrugged. "The witches from the old settlement took back their powers," she explained. "Bonnie can't handle all the spells we need her to do. She's drained. But if she could harness power from other witches, in places where they died violently…"

"Like Jonas Martin having his throat torn out in your bathroom," Caroline finished for her. "Right. Got it."

"She took Damon to the Martin place first," Elena went on. She couldn't stop the bitterness creeping into her voice. "They're going to harness Luka's power there. Then they'll come here and do it again."

Elena moved into the kitchen, Caroline on her heels, and headed for the cabinet where they kept the drinking glasses. Caroline sank onto a stool at the island, frowning. "She took Damon? Why Damon?"

She shrugged. "She didn't want to do the spell alone, just in case, and she said Damon was the only person available. Because, after all," Elena grumbled, the bitterness back. "Anna took Jeremy and Alaric out to Fell's Church to dig up the body she buried there, and apparently I'm completely useless, so…"

"You're not useless, Elena," Caroline said quickly. Elena rolled her eyes at the programmed response. It didn't make her feel any better.

"Thanks," she said, setting out two glasses of juice for her and Caroline. She took a seat across the island from the blonde vampire. "I'm just frustrated. I haven't heard from Stefan in days, Caroline. He's still not answering my texts, and we're no closer to finding him now than we were before."

Caroline nodded, lowering sad eyes to the countertop. She missed Stefan too, Elena noted. He'd been her friend when no one else was willing to help her.

"I'm sorry, Caroline," Elena said suddenly.

Her friend blinked at her in surprise. "What for?"

Elena shrugged, sighing. "Being a crappy friend. You miss him too."

Silence. Caroline stared at her, wide-eyed, and Elena stared back.

"Yeah," Caroline murmured. "I do."

They were silent again. Elena rubbed her fingertip around the rim of her glass, still full of juice that she couldn't bring herself to drink. "Where's Tyler?" she asked.

Caroline looked surprised again. "Why?"

Elena raised her eyebrow. "Well… you've been dragging him with you everywhere for the past two days, so… I just figured you'd have brought him over here."

Caroline sighed and shrugged. "His mom's pissed about the missing body," she explained. "My mom and his mom are having some sort of feud, and it's all weird. Mrs. Lockwood keeps making these snide comments about my mom, and my mom keeps hinting around that she doesn't trust Tyler… I should have never told her that werewolf bites kill vampires. She's like, ridiculously overprotective now."

Elena laughed a little. "Oh, well," Caroline went on. "At least she's acting like she cares. That's a new one."

"You know your mom loves you," Elena said.

"I do now," Caroline sighed. "Anyway, Mrs. Lockwood is being all overprotective now too – which is Tyler's own fault, by the way. If he hadn't run off with Jules, I bet she'd let him do whatever he wanted, just like she used to do."

Elena nodded. "Right. So she put him on house arrest tonight?"

Caroline nodded too. "Yep. Mother-son bonding time or something. He's upset anyway, though, so maybe it'll be good for him."

"What do you mean?"

"Uh…" Caroline looked up guiltily. "Um… I… I shouldn't have said anything."

"Caroline," Elena scolded. "What's going on?"

"Um… Tyler said he saw another werewolf in town."

"_What?_" Elena exclaimed.

"Yeah, this afternoon. He sniffed her out downtown, but she disappeared before he could confront her."

The news shook Elena. _More_ wolves? As if the last time werewolves had come to town hadn't been bad enough. She could remember what happened to Rose all too clearly. Damon's brush with the fatal bite was all too fresh in her mind. Tyler, she could handle. Tyler she trusted, even though Damon didn't understand why. But then, Damon wasn't there when the wolves had attacked her and Stefan at the lake house. He hadn't seen what she'd seen in Tyler's eyes.

But as much as Elena was willing to trust Tyler, the same couldn't be said for other werewolves. She figured she was biased because she spent so much time with vampires, but the wolves scared her a little. Even Tyler, who was on their side, couldn't control what he became once a month.

"He's convinced we have to find her," Caroline went on, sighing harshly. "Because he still has questions that she might be able to answer and blah, blah, blah." She snorted. "I just don't get why! He already had a month with Jules to ask questions, and it's not like Ric doesn't have an entire library's worth of research on the supernatural at his disposal! If he needs help that bad, why doesn't he just ask _me_ the questions? I'd help him find out what he wants to know!"

Elena blinked at Caroline's outburst. Her friend's eyebrows were drawn together and her mouth was puckered in a petulant pout. She raised an eyebrow at Caroline. "Maybe he just needs an insider's perspective, that's all," Elena suggested. "Someone who knows all the ins and outs of being a werewolf personally. I mean, you had that with Stefan."

She choked on his name. Stefan. He had meant so much to so many of them. There was this huge hole in her life now – a hole in her _heart_ – and she couldn't even begin to comprehend filling it again. Stefan must be found – that was her new mantra. She clung to the words, to the idea of seeing him again. They'd kill Klaus, she told herself, and bring Stefan back home.

Caroline shrugged at Elena's assessment of her situation, fixing her eyes on the countertop. Both of them got quiet. Elena poked at her juice glass, still not drinking it. "Tyler wants to tell Matt," Caroline said suddenly. "He wants to tell him about Vicki."

Elena looked up at that, frowning. "That's a really bad idea, Caroline."

"Is it?" Caroline retorted. "She's been paying everyone a visit, hasn't she? She came to Jeremy. Why wouldn't she come to Matt?"

"Look, Matt's my oldest friend," Elena said, putting her hand on Caroline's. "I hate lying to him. But he said he couldn't handle the life we live, and…"

"You don't hate lying to him," Caroline cut her off. Elena flinched at the hard look in Caroline's eyes. "You don't even think about him. You say he's your oldest friend, but as soon as Stefan showed up, Matt pretty much dropped off your radar. When was the last time you even spoke to him? Really talked to him?"

Elena blinked at the hard questions, swallowing down her shock. She wanted to defend herself. She wanted to write Caroline's outburst off, claim that she couldn't mean those words, that she was just worked up over Stefan leaving and Matt dumping her and Tyler meeting a new werewolf. But she couldn't. The words wouldn't leave her lips. There was a kernel of truth in Caroline's accusations, she realized. Elena honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd had a conversation with Matt.

"Matt was _my_ friend – well, more than that," Caroline pressed. "He was _Tyler's_ friend. _We _care about him. The rest of you don't give a crap. You can't care; not if you can sit there and tell me that Matt shouldn't know about his sister."

"If you tell your dimwitted ex-boyfriend about his psychotic zombie sister, I _will_ tear your heart out of your chest."

Elena and Caroline both jumped at the sudden voice. Damon sauntered into the kitchen, smirking at them both. "You're getting sloppy, Barbie," he mocked Caroline. "You didn't even hear me come in."

Caroline swallowed. Elena leveled him with a glower. "Where's Bonnie?" she demanded.

"She's coming," he replied unconcernedly. "Like I said; tell Boy Wonder about his sister, and I'll kill you. Same goes for Wolf Man. Am I getting through to you, Caroline?"

He had crossed the kitchen by now and was leaning into the other vampire's face, smirking. Caroline lifted her chin and glared at him. "Matt deserves to know," she said.

"No, he doesn't," Damon retorted. "I mean, you _care_ about him, right?"

Elena stared at Damon. "Don't," she said. Damon ignored her.

"You don't want to _hurt_ him, do you Barbie?"

"Damon, please stop," Elena spoke again.

"Because his sister tried to kill me, and if I see her again, I _will_ be killing her, all pleas aside from Elena's baby brother," Damon finished. "And if you tell Matt she's back, only to have to tell him later that she's dead again… I don't know. Sounds cruel."

He smirked, as though the cruelty delighted him. Caroline glowered at him, crossing her arms over her chest. Elena got to her feet, her eyes shooting stakes in Damon's direction.

"Will you please stop acting this way?" she demanded. "Just because Stefan's missing does not give you license to be such a jerk!"

Damon snorted, waving her objection aside. "I was always a jerk, Elena. You know that better than anybody. Stop acting like you expect better from me, because we all know you don't."

"You're not helping," Elena pushed. "And I _do_ expect better from you, and you know it too. I know you're capable of being good, Damon, and I don't want to see you lose that side of yourself, just because Stefan is gone."

Every time she had to say that sentence, her throat closed up a little bit. She choked on the word 'gone,' the sides of her throat rubbing together dryly, as though she might throw up, or worse cry. Elena had too much experience with the word gone. It didn't mean missing; it didn't mean not here, it meant death. She kept talking about Stefan, trying to keep everyone on task – _Stefan's gone, we have to find him _– but making everyone else remember just made Elena feel like he was dead. She kept talking about him like he was _dead_.

She blinked furiously, because she was tired of crying. Damon faltered, as though the tears in her eyes made him second guess whatever the hell he was trying to prove. He frowned at her, and Caroline reached for her hand.

The front door opened and Elena jerked her hand away, getting up to greet Bonnie. She was grateful for the distraction. Enough tears, enough with the crying Elena, and enough with the need to be comforted… she wanted to _do_ things. She wanted to be the Elena that got things done.

"Hey," she said to Bonnie as she reached the entryway. Bonnie shut the door behind her and smiled.

"Hey," Bonnie greeted her. "Damon was with me, but I'm not sure if he went home after the spell, or…"

"Did you miss me, witch?" Damon's arrogant, teasing voice sounded from behind Elena.

Elena tensed, and Bonnie narrowed her eyes at him over her Elena's shoulder. "Damon," she said coolly. "How nice of you to meet me here."

"You left her all alone?" Elena demanded, spinning around to confront him. Damon merely rolled his eyes. "You saw what happened at the witches' mansion, Damon, and you just abandon her after…"

"Oh, she was fine," Damon grumbled. "Yeah, ok, maybe she passed out for like a minute…"

"What?" Caroline exclaimed, coming into the foyer from behind him. "Bonnie, are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Bonnie assured her.

"Yeah, see? She's fine," Damon chimed in. "It's not like I left her lying on the floor. She woke up and got all 'I am woman, hear me roar' on me, so… I left. _Like I said_, she was _fine_."

"Still," Bonnie shrugged. "It might have been nice to know where you were going. You could have said something before disappearing on me."

He smirked again. "Did I hurt your feelings, Bonnie?"

She scoffed and headed for the staircase, a large bag over her shoulder. "I'm ready to try the spell in your bathroom now," she told Elena.

Elena followed her up the steps. She heard Caroline coming just behind her. Damon stayed downstairs, and Elena heard him clinking glass against glass. She assumed he was breaking into Alaric's alcohol stash.

Alaric had gone home for only a few minutes since the night Jeremy had died, and that was just to collect his books and a few changes of clothes. He'd spent every night since sleeping on their family room couch. Elena found she didn't mind. It was nice, having a vaguely parental figure lounging around. He'd made a few meals, fixed the faucet that was leaking in the downstairs bathroom, brought home their schoolwork…

He'd also been drunk from pretty much the moment he set foot in the house after Jeremy's resurrection right up until he left the house that night to help Anna and Jeremy dig up the body in the woods. It bothered her a lot. She didn't like that he was drinking so much around Jeremy. Elena knew he missed Jenna. She knew he was staying with her and Jeremy in honor of Jenna, and she also knew his decision to stay was making it impossible to escape her memory. Elena didn't miss the way he avoided Jenna's room like the plague.

But he couldn't drink himself into oblivion for the rest of his life, and Elena was finding it difficult to make him realize he had to stop.

Bonnie stepped into the bathroom Elena shared with Jeremy and dropped her bag in the middle of the room. Elena followed her in and took a seat on the edge of the bath. Caroline lingered in the doorway, watching nervously as Bonnie circled the room, setting up her candles.

"Are you sure you're feeling up to this?" Elena asked. "Two big spells in such a short period of time…?"

"I'll be fine," Bonnie interrupted. "Honestly, I haven't felt this good since before the night I brought back Jeremy. Harnessing Luka's power really helped."

"But even with the Martins' power, you still won't be the way you were, right?" Caroline pressed. "No more big bad Klaus-killing Bonnie?"

The witch shook her head, sighing. "Not right now, no. The kind of power I had before should have taken me years to develop – and even then, I probably still wouldn't be as strong as I was with the witches' help."

She lowered her eyes to the bathroom tile, biting her lower lip. Elena could see Bonnie's newly decreased power was seriously bumming the witch out. To have felt so invincible, only to have that power taken away _would_ be a great loss for her. "Bonnie, I'm sorry," she murmured.

She shrugged. "The witches did warn me. They said there would be consequences. I did it anyway. And I don't regret it."

Bonnie shut her eyes and the candles around the room lit themselves, roaring higher than any candle should, and that effectively ended the conversation. Elena kept her seat on the edge of the tub and Caroline stayed in the doorway as Bonnie stood in the center of the room and began to chant.

A breeze whipped its way through the bathroom and the candles flared. Elena shivered at the sudden energy prickling at her skin, tickling the base of her scalp. Bonnie kept chanting, her eyebrows furrowing, and the breeze turned into a strong wind, knocking over the bottles on the sink. Elena jumped at the clatter, standing up off the tub.

Bonnie screamed. Her scream was sharp and high and agonizing, and it turned Elena's knees into jelly. "Bonnie!" she shouted over her friend's cries, stumbling forward. She hit a sudden invisible force, flying backwards into the bathtub.

"Bonnie!" Caroline shrieked from the doorway. "Elena! Oh, my god!"

The witch's scream got louder and higher. She fell to her knees, clutching at her neck. Elena's ears ached with Bonnie's high pitched yells, and she struggled to climb out of the tub while covering her ears. Suddenly, the scream turned into a gurgling, choking sound. The breeze stilled suddenly, and the candles died, leaving them all in darkness.

"Bonnie?" Elena asked.

"Bonnie!" Caroline exclaimed, storming the bathroom. She fell to her knees beside Bonnie, wrapping her arms around her. Elena stumbled out of the tub and fell against the wall, her fingers fumbling along the surface until she found the light switch and flicked it on. Suddenly the room was bright again. Elena hurried to her friends.

The other girl sat up slowly as Caroline stroked her hair back from her face. "Bonnie?" Elena demanded.

"I'm fine," Bonnie assured them both. "It was just the spell."

She was breathless and leaned against the sink. Caroline knelt beside her, frowning worriedly into her face. Elena sat in front of the tired witch, clutching her knees and staring at Bonnie with wide eyes. "You're all right?" she asked, not believing it.

She nodded. "Seriously, you guys, I'm fine. It's just the way spell works."

"Where the hell is Damon?" Caroline snapped suddenly. "I mean, you're up here screaming your head off, and that jerk doesn't bother coming to check on us?"

"Bite me, Barbie!" Damon bellowed from downstairs.

"It happened at the Martin place too," Bonnie murmured. "He knew I was fine. He's not being _that_ big of a dick."

She tried to get to her feet. Caroline instantly stood up and hauled her off the ground. Bonnie leaned against the vampire, catching her breath.

"How do you feel?" Elena asked, standing up too.

Bonnie looked up at her, and the gleam in her eyes gave Elena chills. "Good," she murmured, a faint smile on her face. "I feel really good."

She gently disentangled herself from Caroline's grasp, and then marched out of the bathroom, her legs still mildly shaking. Elena watched her walk into the hall and turn towards the staircase, disappearing behind the wall.

"I better make sure she doesn't fall down the stairs," Caroline said hastily, following her.

Elena stood in her bathroom, staring at the doorway, her breath coming too fast and too deep. She swallowed down the nervous bubble in her throat, but her stomach still flip-flopped inside her. Her skin tingled with electricity.

There was a buzzing against her thigh. Elena jumped, and then fumbled for her phone, yanking it from her jeans pocket. One new text message.

She opened the message, her eye reading the text greedily. It was Stefan's number.

_I'm fine, but I won't be back. I'm sorry. Don't look for me._

Elena choked on the lump in her throat. Her eyes burned with sudden tears. She tried to swallow the lump, but it stuck. Elena sucked in a shaky breath and put her hand over her eyes, blinking back the hot tears. For days, she'd been waiting to hear from him, to know that he was all right, and now that she had, the hearing from him hurt more than the silence. The text message was crueler than the not knowing.

She swallowed again, shoved her phone back in her pocket and walked out of the bathroom. She refused to cry one more time. And she refused to give up on Stefan.

* * *

><p>Stefan was hungry.<p>

He followed the scent of blood down the dark hallway, feeling the veins bulging around his eyes. His cell phone was in his back pocket, and he half expected to feel it vibrate. It wouldn't be like Elena to take his goodbye lying down.

But the phone didn't buzz. It was a good thing, he told himself. They had to distance themselves now, no matter how much he missed Elena… her eyes, her smile, her smell… her compassion, her gentle touch, her kind words of encouragement… if she were here, she'd offer him her wrist, blinking up at him with the trust that he didn't deserve, and tell him she had faith in him, that she knew he could stop. She'd tell him he wasn't a monster.

She'd be wrong.

The Los Angeles sun was setting, leaving the house gray. It was one of those old Hollywood style houses, plastered with stucco, with arched doorways and windows and dramatic, wrought iron lighting. Stefan followed the blood stench down the dim hall and into the back sitting room. One entire wall of the room was windows, letting in late day light. He could see the sun setting over the dark blue ocean, streaking the sky orange and red, staining the fluffy clouds floating across the horizon.

The room was dimly lit with several candles. Klaus sat on a chaise lounge with a glass of blood and scotch in one hand, grinning up at a dancing girl with his bloodstained lips. Stefan swallowed, the scent of the girl's blood making his mouth water. Across the room, rigid with terror, Mary McCullough sat in an armchair, her eyes panicking as she took in the scene.

"Stefan," Klaus called, flashing his bloody grin Stefan's way. "You look hungry."

He didn't trust himself to speak. Stefan stepped farther into the room, his eyes on the girl dancing to the Beatles. Klaus liked the Beatles, Stefan had discovered, although he didn't understand why. It seemed to him that Klaus stood for something entirely un-Beatle like.

She was heavily tanned, with sun bleached hair, and she was wearing a white bikini, and Stefan could see blood dribbling down her neck, staining her bikini top. Blood rolled from the half moon bite on her abdomen, staining her bikini bottoms too, and another bite mark stood out on her thigh. Blood dribbled down her leg.

He didn't care about her skin or her eyes or her hair. He wasn't looking at her slender waist or her perfectly toned legs. His eyes were on the blood trickling down her body. His fangs poked through his gums, and he hissed hungrily at the dancing girl.

"This is Alison," Klaus said. "I thought we'd dine in tonight. Last night's destructive rampage has left me… bored."

He grinned wickedly, and returned his eyes to the dancing blonde. "You may have her, if you like," he went on. Stefan swallowed, using every last ounce of his self restraint to not throw himself across the room and sink his fangs into the drunken, compelled young girl. "Although, there is a brunette in the pool who I thought might be more to your taste."

As if on cue, the sliding glass doors to the pool and patio opened, and the brunette stepped inside. She shut the door behind her, and Stefan watched her pin-straight curtain of dark brown hair swing against her smooth, olive toned back. She wore a simple black bikini, and her limbs were long and lean. She turned delicately, like she was performing in some sort of ballet, and met his stare with a pair of huge dark eyes.

"This is Stefan, Marina," Klaus announced.

She fluttered her long lashes at him. Stefan swallowed as she moved in his direction, smiling softly at him. Klaus had not yet fed from her, and her skin was perfect. He could hear her pulse thumping under that perfect olive skin, her veins twitching under the thin fragile layer of protection that would be far too easy to tear apart with his teeth.

He swallowed, her smell nearly making him lose control. She traced her fingers over his chest, nuzzling his neck with her soft cherry lips. Stefan wanted desperately to bite her and suck her dry.

Instead, he shoved her to the side and propelled himself at the blonde. She shrieked, stumbling back as he rushed her, all her dancing at an end. Stefan sank his fangs into the blonde's tanned neck and tore at her flesh, ripping through skin and muscles and veins. Her shriek turned into a gurgle, and he drank her down, her warm, sweet, coppery blood coating his throat and filling him with heat.

Klaus laughed as Stefan drained her, and applauded when he dropped her. Her limp body hit the coffee table in front of the hybrid's chaise, bounced off, and fell to the floor. Her limbs landed at odd angles. Her eyes were wide and empty, and her throat looked like a wild animal had been at it.

He'd killed her.

"Pity," Klaus sighed, drinking the blood and scotch concoction in his hand. Stefan was reminded vividly of Damon, and the comparison nearly had him punching holes in the stucco walls. "I so thought you'd prefer the brunette."

The brunette had been beautiful and smelled delicious. She'd also looked eerily similar to Elena. As much as he missed her, as much as he loved her, deeply, there was no part of him that could even _consider _draining a young girl dry who looked so much like his Elena.

He looked up at the hard, cold eyes of the redheaded witch on the other side of the room. "Mary has been so helpful," Klaus spoke up, following Stefan's eyes. "She tells me your friend Bonnie has been trying to find you, but her magic has effectively blocked Bonnie's spells. Isn't that grand?"

Stefan said nothing. The witch was glaring at him, and he wanted to throw himself at Mary and rip out her throat. He was still hungry, and her angry eyes fueled the desperate rage he felt percolating inside him, twenty-four hours a day. Who was she to look at him like that? She was in Klaus's pocket too.

"I agree, Stefan," Klaus said, although Stefan still hadn't spoken. "I'm pleased with her work as well. Aren't you glad, Mistress Mary? You get to live another night."

"Please," Mary whispered hoarsely. "Just kill me and get it over with."

"And lose my witch?" Klaus replied, appalled. "I think not."

"I blocked her spells," Mary said. "My magic will hold. You don't need me anymore."

"On the contrary, Mistress Mary," Klaus grinned. "I need you plenty. While I _am_ enjoying this little vacation with my new friend Stefan, I do have other plans besides boundless destruction… and you, my dear, play a very important part."

"Whatever it is what you want," Mary pleaded. "I'm not strong enough to give it to you. I'm a low level witch, at best. Parlor tricks. You know this; you don't need me."

Klaus chuckled again, getting to his feet and draping an arm around Stefan's shoulders. Stefan tensed and glowered at the floor. "I do so love it when they beg for death," Klaus said to him, as though the two of them were co-conspirators.

Mary lifted her chin high and glared at them both. "You're strong enough for now," Klaus went on, addressing Mary again. "You'll do until I find someone stronger."

Then he removed his arm from Stefan's shoulders and turned his back on Mary, effectively dismissing her. Stefan turned and leveled hard eyes at his back as Klaus finished the last of his drink. "Klaus," he murmured.

"Yes, Stefan?"

"What exactly are your plans?"

The hybrid chuckled low in his throat and raised his eyebrow at Stefan over his shoulder. "All in due time. You don't want the fun to end so soon, do you?"

He turned his back to Stefan again, leaving the other vampire standing in the center of the room, rigid, his hands clenched into fists. Klaus crossed the room to where Marina leaned on the wall, playing with her long brown hair and drinking Klaus's liquor. He took her by the arm and pulled her into his chest, sweeping her hair over one shoulder.

"Stefan," he said. "I want you to watch."

And then he sank his teeth into the brunette's neck.

* * *

><p>Tyler found Caroline waiting for him in the Grille after school the next day, sitting at a table in the back and studying a menu. He hadn't heard from her at all the night before, and her busy schedule had kept him from really talking to her at school. She'd texted him before the final bell, telling him to meet her here.<p>

He crossed the restaurant and slid into the chair across from hers. She wasn't surprised by his sudden appearance, and he assumed she'd heard him coming. Maybe she'd even smelled him, the way he smelled her… he wondered what he smelled like to her.

Stupid questions. He didn't ask her any of them. "Hey," he said instead.

"Hi," she smiled. "How was your bonding night with your mom?"

Tyler rolled his eyes. "We went out to dinner," he replied. "She spent most of it on the phone."

Caroline laughed. "Sorry."

He shrugged. "What happened? Did Anna take you guys to see the body?"

Caroline sighed, plopping her menu down on the table. Before she had a chance to say something, a waitress came over to take their orders.

Once he'd ordered way too much food, and Caroline had ordered the same amount, the waitress left and they were free to talk. "You know, French fries aren't blood," he pointed out. "You really going to eat all that?"

She shrugged and gave him a half smile, her nose crinkling up. "Yeah, sorry. If I eat, I want to kill people less. It helps with my urges."

Tyler nodded, raising his eyebrow. She looked self-conscious at the admission. "Just… vampire thing, um… hey, did you find out anything else about the werewolf girl?"

She'd changed the subject all too quickly. He flinched a little. She was embarrassed by the blood talk. Taking a deep breath, he shrugged. "It's weird, actually. I feel like someone's been following me."

He'd been feeling it the whole day, and the whole night before. Ever since he'd dropped Caroline off at her house yesterday, he'd felt eyes on the back of his head, boring holes in the back of his neck. He'd looked all around him, tried to catch an unusual scent, but he saw nothing and he smelled nothing. Maybe he was being paranoid.

"Someone's following you?" Caroline asked, her brows drawn together in concern.

Tyler shrugged again. "I don't know, maybe. I just… I feel _eyes,_ you know?"

"Is it the girl from yesterday?"

"I don't know," he repeated himself. "Maybe. It's something."

Caroline's shoulders slumped. She heaved a sigh, her eyes on the table. "Well, maybe she's just trying to get read on you," she murmured. "You know, like she wants to make contact too, but she's afraid you won't be receptive?"

"After I chased her down the street yesterday?" Tyler retorted. "I somehow doubt that."

"Well, maybe she's worried about the company you keep," Caroline said acerbically. "If she sniffed you out, I'm sure she could smell me."

He swallowed at her tone. Werewolf girl was a touchy subject. He could remember the conversation they'd had yesterday all too clearly, and it was obvious she didn't like the idea of there being other wolves in town. She _really_ didn't like the idea of him talking to the other wolf. Tyler decided to change the subject.

"You didn't finish telling me about Anna," he said. "What happened last night?"

Caroline sighed again. "The guy she buried in the woods totally woke up and clawed his way out of his grave," she replied. "We don't know where he is – he's probably eating somebody as we speak."

Tyler flinched. "Great."

"Bonnie said the witches from the old settlement took away the power they'd given her to kill Klaus, so she's all juiced out."

"Juiced out?"

"She did spells in Jonas Martin's house and Elena's bathroom, because witches died in both those places, and she harnessed the energy of those witches, so she's not quite as drained as before."

"Elena's _bathroom_?"

"She started screaming," Caroline confessed, making eye contact at last. He swallowed at the look in her eyes. "Like she was in real pain. And then she collapsed. Elena and I totally freaked out, but she acted like it was no big deal. It was spooky. I don't… and then Damon told me if we tell Matt about Vicki, he'll kill us."

Tyler clenched his fist. "Fuck Damon," he spat. "I don't care what he thinks."

"Stefan texted Elena and told her to stop looking for him."

The way she said the last sentence made him unclench his fist and forget all about staking Damon. She looked so sad. Tyler ducked his head, tucking his chin against his neck, trying to think of something comforting to say.

He had nothing.

"I don't want to talk about this crap anymore," Caroline announced.

Tyler nodded. "Ok."

The waitress came back just then with their food and set it on the table. Caroline thanked her with a sunny smile that Tyler knew for a fact she was faking, and then slumped in her chair again once the waitress left.

Caroline popped a fry into her mouth. Tyler watched her lips, his eyes fixed on the movements of her jaw as she chewed, and his tongue darted out to wet his own lips. She sucked on the straw in her diet soda, and he found himself examining the way her lips pursed around the straw as she took a drink.

He shook his head and tore his eyes away. There was a checklist in his head that he was constantly adding things to – it was the list of things not to do around Caroline. Touching her was on the list now, and had been ever since the night that wouldn't end two days ago. He added staring at her mouth to the list as well.

The list of things he couldn't do around Caroline was really starting to stack up.

Matt appeared in Tyler's peripheral vision. He cursed in his head, annoyed at his old friend's appearance. Seeing Matt made him feel uncomfortable, for a whole lot of reasons. The guy wasn't talking to him, and Tyler wasn't talking to Matt either. He felt like a complete tool for not yet telling Matt about Vicki. And on top of it all, Tyler was having totally inappropriate fantasies about his last real friend and Matt's ex-girlfriend, which had to make him the worst friend in the world. He'd slept with the guy's sister, made out with his mom, and now he was hanging around Caroline.

Matt glanced at the two of them briefly, and then went about his business as though they were just two more customers. Tyler swallowed, lowering his eyes to his food. Caroline saw Matt next, and she smiled, waving at him. Matt nodded in her direction, and then vanished into the kitchen.

Caroline's face fell. Tyler nearly flipped his plate off the table. It was starting to really piss him off, the way Caroline was still moping around about Matt. The guy was being a complete dick to her and for no good reason – Matt was the one she'd been honest with. Matt was the one she loved. He guessed it might freak Matt out now that he knew about the time Caroline had lost control and bitten him, and then had to compel him to forget about it, but…

Tyler sighed. The real reason he was mad was jealousy. Matt had Caroline wrapped around his finger. He could show up on her doorstep later that day, apologize for conspiring with her mother, say he'd gotten over the vampire thing and wanted to get together again, and Caroline would probably take him back. But Matt didn't seem to understand exactly how good he had it.

Caroline started complaining about Booster Club or something, and the bitch who had taken over as faculty advisor. He smiled and nodded, and made a few little jokes when appropriate. By the time she'd eaten most of her food, she was back to her usual self, smiling and laughing and making him laugh too.

Her phone vibrated against the table, and Caroline snatched it up, checking the display screen. She heaved a sigh. "It's my mom. She wants me to meet her at the station."

"I can come with you," Tyler volunteered. He was starting to feel left out of the action.

Caroline shook her head. "No, you don't have to. I'll see you later, ok?"

She tossed some money on the table to cover her meal, clambering to her feet and grabbing her purse. "Later," Tyler said.

Caroline smiled brightly at him and promised to call him later. Then she was headed for the door, her blonde hair swinging behind her. He watched her go, a smile still playing on his lips. Moments later, she'd stepped outside and disappeared up the street.

Tyler looked down at his plate and poked at a French fry. His appetite was mostly gone now. Sighing, he glanced up and saw Matt standing behind the bar, glaring at him over a tub of dishes.

He lowered his eyes to the table, but it was too late to play avoidance. Matt started walking towards Tyler's table. His advance put Tyler on edge. Part of him had nothing to say to the other boy, but another part had known this was coming since he'd transformed in the forest, right in front of his oldest friend. It was a good thing, he tried to tell himself, that they finally get this out of the away. After all, they were going to have the talk whether he liked it or not.

But they didn't have the talk. Because at that moment, the door to the Grille opened again, and an all too familiar scent assaulted his nostrils. Tyler's head darted up and he narrowed his eyes at the door, the stench of dirt and musk wafting over to him from the other side of the restaurant. A woman had just passed through the entrance, and she smelled like a werewolf.

For a moment, he hoped the wolf girl from the day before had returned and he'd finally figure out who she was and why she was in Mystic Falls. But the woman in the door was a stranger. She also smelled wrong, he realized suddenly. There was something under the scent of the wolf, something strange. She smelled _old_, like the musty, hundred year old books in his father's office.

The werewolf with the odd, aged, _wrong_ smell made eye contact immediately. Tyler swallowed as her large green eyes bored into his dark ones. She was a tiny woman, tanned by the sun, with long dark hair and a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

_Like the cat that ate the canary… or the wolf that ate the cat…_

Matt stopped in his tracks at the edge of the bar, and stared at the woman with huge, confused eyes. Tyler spared him a mere glance before returning his gaze to the strange smelling wolf woman. She was headed right for him.

She reached his table and gracefully sank into Caroline's abandoned chair. He narrowed his eyes. She arched an eyebrow at him. "Tyler Lockwood?" she asked politely. Her accent was strange and foreign, and she pronounced the 'w' in his name like a 'v.'

Tyler shrugged, glaring at her. "That's me," he admitted easily. "Who the hell are you?"

The self satisfied smirk faded into a genuinely amused smile. She leaned forward, perching her elbow on the edge of the table and swinging one leg over the other. "You can call me Sybil," she said.

He stared at her with hard eyes, silent. Screw asking questions; he'd let her talk first. He didn't know who she was – or even what she was, exactly, and he decided to feel her out before he gave too much away.

"You don't want to know what I want?" she asked finally, after several seconds of silence.

He shrugged again. Sybil eyed him a while longer and he glared back. She raised an eyebrow at him. Her fingers traced her jaw as she looked him up and down. "I know what you are," Sybil announced.

"Yeah? What's that?"

Her eyes flitted from side to side, but her head never moved. Tyler glanced around him too. No one could hear them, and no one was looking at them – except for Matt. He'd returned to his dishes, but his eyes were still on them, his brow furrowed.

"Same as what I am," she replied softly. "You smelled me the moment I walked in here, no?"

"You're not what I am," he retorted. "You smell weird. Different."

Her smiled widened, her eyebrows lifting up in delight. "You could tell," she murmured. "How exciting. You learn quickly for a wolf with no one to teach him."

Tyler's back locked up and his fists clenched. Muscles straining, he swallowed down the sick feeling in his stomach. "How do you know so much about me?" he asked, trying to remain calm.

She shrugged. "I have my ways."

He sneered. "You're the one who's been following me?"

"Someone's been following you?"

"Cut the crap," Tyler snapped. "I _felt_ someone watching me. I've been feeling it since last night. It was you."

Sybil didn't argue nor agree. She just smiled, resting her chin on her fingers.

"What are you?" Tyler asked, glowering.

Her voice lowered a few octaves, so only he could hear her. "You know. Same as you. Werewolf."

"No," he disagreed. "That's not everything."

"It's all I'm going to tell you."

"What do you want?"

She blinked at him, her smile still lingering at the corners of her mouth. "You remember the girl you saw yesterday?"

"The wolf," he nodded. "She's with you?"

Sybil nodded back. "She told me an interesting story about the pretty blonde girl you were eating with a moment ago."

He tensed up again. Tyler sat up straighter, pushing his shoulders back, and leveled a steely glare at the woman across the table. Her eyes drifted to his grinding jaw. "She told me your friend was named Caroline," Sybil said quietly. "And that she was a vampire."

Tyler swallowed. "What do you want with Caroline?" he demanded.

"Not a thing," Sybil replied. "My interest is in you and you only."

"Great," he drawled sarcastically. "Because that doesn't creep me out."

She chuckled low in her throat. "I apologize," she said, only half serious. "I can tell you are new, is all. I'd say… two? Three moons tops."

Tyler didn't affirm or deny her suspicion. "My pack is small," she went on. "And you are alone. I have been all over this town, and I cannot find another werewolf."

"So, what? You're offering to adopt me?"

She smiled at him. "In a way."

Tyler snorted. "You want me to join your _pack_. Just like that?"

Sybil shrugged, sighing. "No, not just like that. I don't know you at all. I can't trust you yet. You'd have to prove yourself. But you're young and alone, and a vampire is messing with your head, and I don't feel right about turning my back on you."

"She's my friend," he snapped. "She's not going to hurt anyone."

The older wolf clucked her tongue, shaking her head. "This is exactly why I came to you," she informed him. "You worry me, Tyler. To say that a vampire means no harm when their very nature is to…"

"She doesn't," he growled. "I trust her. I don't know you. Why are you really here?"

Sybil blinked, her face remaining blank. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why are you really here?" he retorted. "I don't buy the recruitment excuse. Why did you _really_ come to Mystic Falls?"

Her jaw got tight. He heard a rumble low in her chest, like a predatory growl. "That is none of your business."

"Unless I'm in the pack?"

"Exactly."

He glared at her again. Sybil studied him carefully. "I need to trust you before I tell you my secrets," she said.

Tyler shrugged. "I need to trust you before I join your pack. Like I said; _I don't know you_."

"Not yet," she agreed. "But like it or not, our natures connect us in ways your vampire friend will never understand."

"I don't buy that."

"Even though I don't know you, I have an instinct to protect you," Sybil pressed, ignoring the interruption. "Wolves protect their young, at all costs. Right now, I sense that a young wolf pup is under direct threat from a predator, and my instinct is to eliminate that threat."

_Bang! _Tyler's fist smashed down on the tabletop, rattling the dishes. The sound echoed in their corner of the Grille, and several patrons whirled around to stare at him. Sybil raised her eyebrow, her amused, infuriating smirk returning to her lips.

Tyler waited until the other diners had returned to their meals and then he lunged forward, leaning threateningly over the table. Heat rose in his chest and up his neck, burning its way into his face. He felt the swell of his eyes as they turned gold. "You stay the hell away from Caroline," he growled.

Sybil shook her head again, as Tyler's leg trembled under the table with adrenaline. He clenched his fists tight against his sides, hating the pity he saw in Sybil's eyes. "She has got you quite wrapped around her finger, hasn't she?"

"She's my friend," he said for what felt like the hundredth time. "We've been through a lot together."

"Maybe so," she replied gently. "But vampires are very good liars. They play tricks with your mind. And in the past, when I have seen a vampire befriend a werewolf, it has always been because the werewolf has something the vampire wants…"

"Stop," he cut her off. "You don't know anything. I don't need you to tell me about vampires."

She raised an eyebrow. "Apparently you do."

"I don't want to be in your little pack, ok?" he informed her. "No deal. You can leave."

Sybil's elbow slid off the tabletop, and she edged forward. "I can help you," she said slowly. "You know I can. Why would you turn that down?"

Tyler shrugged, trying to appear apathetic. He didn't want to turn her away, if he was being honest. She did have answers, and he did have questions. But there was something off about her, something strange and dangerous, and he just couldn't trust the way she smelled. He couldn't ignore her dislike for vampires, either. She'd been subtle about it, but Tyler hadn't missed the way she'd threatened Caroline.

"Thanks, but no thanks," he said. "I've tried the pack thing before. It didn't work out so great. I'm not looking for round two."

She stared at him a long time, until Tyler grew uncomfortable under her scrutiny. He fidgeted in his chair. Sybil narrowed her eyes at him, lifting one eyebrow, and he glared back.

"I am disappointed," she said finally. "But you are smart, I can tell. You will come to see things my way. And when you do, my offer will still stand."

Then she got to her feet with a graceful coordination that he couldn't help marveling at. She turned away from him. His distrusting eyes never left her back as she quietly stole towards the door.


	7. Hungry Like the Wolf

On the Origin of Species

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I am not associated with anything _Vampire Diaries_, and I make no profit off this fan fiction. Also, I stole the title from Charles Darwin. Don't sue, please… I've got nothing but some pocket change and a car that won't start.

Summary: After Elijah's betrayal, another Original comes to Mystic Falls to kill the hybrid, and discovers that history is about to repeat itself. Set post season 2 finale. Forwood first and foremost, but I love all the other characters and their relationships too much not to play with those too… and those could end up going anywhere.

AN: Big thank yous to SusanXG, txgirl0302, Ancholia, potterhead, anonymous, AllCreator, Bee03, batgirl2992, TVDfantasy13, JYLlian, bianca08, penguinsrpals and Nova802 for all the lovely reviews!

* * *

><p>Chapter 6: Hungry Like the Wolf<p>

Jeremy hopped down the single step from the door into the garage and sauntered over to the deep freeze in the corner. The old metal freezer was humming obnoxiously, and the garage door was wide open. Elena's car was parked to the side, leaving a wide open space between Jeremy and the door, and he could feel the night air, cold on his bare arms. He swung open the lid of the freezer and hunched over it.

Anna was hungry again. So far, the dead flesh was doing wonders. It filled her up, kept her from attacking humans, and because the pieces she ate were disconnected from the rest of the body, nothing woke up as a zombie. She grimaced the whole time she was eating the flesh, saying it tasted terrible, but it was enough to satisfy the cravings, and that gave Jeremy hope. Maybe Anna could beat this thing. Maybe she could keep herself alive without hurting other people. Maybe she could stay with him a little bit longer.

It was a selfish thing to think, but he couldn't help it. He'd had enough death in his short life, and if he could keep even just one person he'd thought he'd lost, he'd be satisfied.

"Whoa, what the hell is that?"

Jeremy dropped the plastic bag he was holding and slammed the freezer lid shut. He whirled around and discovered Tyler Lockwood standing behind him, staring incredulously at the freezer.

"Nothing," Jeremy said too quickly, folding his arms over his chest. "Uh… what are you doing here?"

Tyler shrugged. "War meeting, remember? Bonnie told me to come."

Well, he remembered now. Jeremy had spent most of the evening with Anna, talking about her new lease on life, and the meeting had just about slipped his mind. She'd complained about the taste of her new diet, but thanked him for helping her adjust to 'life as a zombie,' as she'd called it. For a little while, things had felt like they had all those months ago, before Anna had died. She was the same girl he remembered, cute and nerdy and completely capable. It was like she'd never been gone.

"So… what's with the freezer full of dead people?" Tyler asked.

Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly. "Anna," he said.

Tyler frowned, nodding slowly at him. "Right. Is it working?"

"Kind of," Jeremy replied. "She says it tastes awful, but it curbs the cravings."

Tyler nodded again. "Uh… that's…good?"

Jeremy narrowed his eyes at the werewolf. "You got something to say, Lockwood?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, man, whatever works. I'm just saying, if you're going to be poking through your little freezer of horrors, you ought to close the garage door. People get arrested for way less."

Jeremy glanced at the open garage door sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. "You might have a point."

Tyler leaned against the freezer, his arms crossed over his chest. Jeremy rested his hip on the freezer beside him and turned to face Tyler. He wasn't sure what to say. Tyler had been sort of friendly thus far, but he could never gauge the other boy's moods. He was likely to shut down and get defensive at the smallest comment. Jeremy cleared his throat. "I heard you met a werewolf."

"Yeah," Tyler grunted.

"You didn't actually talk to her though?"

The werewolf shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, I met another one in the Grille today. The two of us had a real long conversation."

There was bitterness in Tyler's voice, and Jeremy frowned. "Another one?" he asked. "What did she tell you?"

Tyler shrugged. "I got to tell everyone at the meeting anyway, so I'll save it. What's going on, exactly? What happened?"

Jeremy sighed. "Bonnie was going to try contacting Emily again? I don't know, she said she had a plan. Plus, she and Damon are getting all antsy about the missing bodies. If there are more zombies out there, then there's more people turning up half eaten, and apparently that leads straight to Founder's Council vampire slaying."

Tyler snorted. "So what are we supposed to do? Go zombie hunting in the town square? Drop them with a headshot?"

"I don't know," Jeremy sighed again. "Everything's really messed up. I feel kind of responsible."

He regretted that admission the moment he saw Tyler's face. He frowned at Jeremy and fidgeted again. Boys didn't talk about their feelings, Jeremy thought ruefully. Tyler didn't want to hear about his issues. "Why's that?" Tyler asked anyway, his voice obviously strained.

Jeremy shrugged. "Well, if Bonnie hadn't done that spell to save me, there'd be no zombies. So… yeah. Kind of my fault."

Tyler snorted, unimpressed. "Bull shit."

That was all the other boy said, and Jeremy knew better than to try and get anything else out of him. Tyler glared out the open garage door, and Jeremy stood straight again, opening the freezer lid. He pulled one of the carefully wrapped bags from its ice cold depths, and then slammed the lid shut.

"Feeding time for the zombies?" Tyler quipped.

Jeremy glared at him. "Nice, man."

He brushed past Tyler and headed for the house. Tyler followed him. "Sorry," he said, although he didn't sound sorry at all. "It's just that sometimes? I feel like I'm living a really fucked up comic book."

Jeremy couldn't help laughing at that. "Yeah, you and me both."

They crossed from the garage and into the kitchen. Tyler took a seat at the island as Anna got off the family room couch and greeted them both with a smile. "Hey," she offered, making her way into the kitchen.

"Hey," Tyler nodded at her.

Anna took the freezer bag from Jeremy's hand, her smile faltering as she cast her eyes on the floor in embarrassment. "Hey, don't do that," Jeremy scolded her automatically. "It's cool, Anna. Everybody gets it."

"No," she replied. "It's definitely _not_ cool, and I don't think anyone gets it. But thanks anyway, Jer."

Despite the words, there was no bitterness to her smile and her tone was good-natured. Jeremy squeezed her shoulder. "Try not to freak out too much, all right? We're all going to get used to it, and you will too. It just takes a little time."

"How much time?" Anna joked. "I mean, I've seen zombie movies before, and a zombie's life expectancy tends to range between twelve hours and three days, so…"

Jeremy frowned at her. "That's not funny."

"Sorry," she grinned. "Um… I'm going to go… eat…"

He nodded at her and gave her an encouraging smile. Anna disappeared into the downstairs bathroom and shut the door behind her. She was still too embarrassed to eat in front of other people, and Jeremy didn't know how he felt about that. On the one hand, he didn't want her to be embarrassed about it, and he wanted her to trust him enough to eat in front of him. He didn't want her to think he could be disgusted by her eating habits. At the same time, though… Jeremy wasn't sure he could watch her eat. It might be too much for him.

Sadly, he stared at the bathroom door. He wanted to help her, so bad. Turning away, he caught Tyler's eye, and was surprised to see the guy giving him a hard-eyed, calculating look. "What?" he frowned.

"Nothing," Tyler replied. Jeremy looked away. "Hey, if you have sex with a zombie, is that considered necrophilia?"

Jeremy glared at him. Tyler smirked. "Shut up," Jeremy snapped, swinging his fist at the other boy's arm. Tyler easily dodged the punch, laughing. Jeremy tried to glare at him and failed.

"Sorry," Tyler apologized insincerely, his tone and his eyes mocking.

"Just shut up," Jeremy said again, feeling stupid.

He knew what Tyler was getting at, and it left him uneasy. Anna was scared and confused, and Jeremy was getting all too good at comforting her. His memories of her before the fire at his father's old office came flooding back all too easily. Like he said, he'd missed her.

Zombie diet aside, though, Anna was fitting back into his life much too smoothly. It shouldn't feel like no time had been lost. It shouldn't feel so right. And after everything that had happened, he should be with Bonnie – making it up to her, giving her back everything she had given him. He owed Bonnie his life – and more than that, he cared for Bonnie. He wanted to be with her, he wanted to touch her and talk to her and thank her the way she deserved to be thanked.

It didn't make him want to be around Anna any less. For the second time since his resurrection, Jeremy couldn't help thinking he was in serious trouble.

* * *

><p>Caroline parked her Focus against the curb in front of Elena's house and took a deep steadying breath. Several cars were already parked in the drive. Bonnie had called the meeting to talk Stefan and zombies, and Caroline had no idea why. The not knowing was making her stomach dance with anxiety. Bonnie's reasons could be either really good or really bad, and based on the past few days, Caroline was betting bad.<p>

She grabbed her bag and climbed out of the car. Sighing, she shook her head as she headed for the front door. All they seemed to do lately was call meetings. They'd all gather at Elena's place or the Salvatore boarding house, spend a good half hour screaming at each other, and then go their separate ways. It ended the same way every time; everyone left frustrated, and nothing got resolved. As someone who'd attended a lot of meetings in her life – even resided over most of them – Caroline was used to leaving a meeting with the sense of having accomplished something.

Caroline opened the door without knocking and headed for the kitchen. She was the last to arrive. Even Tyler was there already, sitting at the kitchen island with Jeremy and Anna. Damon leaned on the back door, looking impatient to make an escape. Elena was sitting on the living room couch with Bonnie, both of them facing backwards to see everyone in the kitchen, and Alaric was leaning on the kitchen counter with a drink in his hand.

"Hey," Caroline greeted them all, forcing a smile. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Elena replied. "Bonnie hasn't told us what we're doing here yet."

Caroline nodded, dropping her purse on the floor and leaning against the fridge. "I tried to contact Emily today," Bonnie announced. "I thought with the extra magic I harnessed from the Martins, I'd be able to pull off the spell."

"Let me guess," Damon drawled. "No go?"

Bonnie narrowed her eyes at him. "Unfortunately, no. I don't know if it's my magic, or if Emily just won't talk to me. But I need to know what's going on. We still have no idea how Vicki and Anna came back, or what them being here means. And I have no clue how to find Stefan, not to mention kill Klaus now that he's basically invincible."

"So what are you saying?" Elena asked, frowning. "You're not giving up?"

"No," Bonnie reassured her. "I'm planning on performing another locator spell. I want to find my cousin Lucy and see if she can help."

"Lucy?" Caroline asked, crinkling her forehead in confusion.

Bonnie nodded. "The witch at the masquerade? The one that started out working for Katherine, and then turned on her by the end of the night? She's older than me, and might have a better understanding of what's going on. At any rate, maybe she'll know about a spell I don't, or Emily will be more willing to talk to her than me."

"Because Lucy doesn't abuse her powers?" Damon said snidely.

Caroline flinched at the hard look in Bonnie's eyes. The witch looked like she wanted to light Damon on fire. To her credit, she swallowed down her irritation, and lifted her chin. "Something like that," she retorted through gritted teeth. "I want to do the spell tonight."

"All right," Elena said brightly. She sounded more hopeful than Caroline had heard her sound in months. "I'll go get a map."

She got off the couch and disappeared into the front of house. "What makes you think Lucy will want to help _you_?" Damon asked Bonnie rudely, right as Elena left the room. "Maybe she'll be on the other witches' side."

"Hey, leave her alone," Jeremy spoke up. "If she hadn't done that spell, I'd be dead right now."

Damon snorted. "Yes, and that would have been _tragic_," he sneered. "Look, even if this witch _does_ want to help us, what is she even going to do? If Emily doesn't want to talk, then Emily doesn't want to talk. I knew her back in 1864, remember? She's a _very_ stubborn little witch."

Bonnie shrugged. "I have to try."

"And what exactly is Lucy going to know about Stefan?" Damon pressed bitterly. "We tried all the locator spells, remember? You said another witch was blocking them."

A thin, faint smirk twitched on Bonnie's lips and her eyes narrowed dangerously. She tilted her head and leveled her unpleasant sneer at Damon. "Why, Damon. It's almost like you don't _want_ to find your brother."

Caroline tensed at the cold look in Damon's blue eyes. The older vampire pushed himself off the door and took a threatening step in Bonnie's direction. "Don't you dare talk about Stefan to me," he snarled.

"He's gone because he wanted to save _your_ life," Bonnie retorted, rising to her feet. "The least you could do is cooperate with the people who are looking for him."

Damon scoffed. "Because you're all doing such a bang-up job! When are you people going to realize just how impossible all this is?"

"It was impossible before too," Bonnie flung back at him. "But you were willing to go to any lengths to save Elena. Why is it different for Stefan?"

Damon rushed the witch, a blur of black leather and denim, and came to a stop directly before her, leaning threateningly into her face. "It's _not_," he growled. "Don't piss me off, Bonnie. I want to find Stefan every bit as much as you do."

Caroline swallowed, pushing herself off the fridge. Damon was scary when he was like this, and the last thing Caroline wanted to see was Bonnie getting hurt. Bonnie didn't seem scared though. She just shrugged and leveled Damon with another steely glare. "You have a funny way of showing it."

Damon's fangs were out in seconds, and with a snarl he lunged at Bonnie. Caroline jumped, a startled little scream escaping her throat, and then flung herself towards them with a loud hiss. In the background, she heard Jeremy shouting; heard the scrape of his stool as he leapt to his feet and rushed to his girlfriend's aid.

Suddenly, Damon was on the floor, moaning in agony and clutching his head. Caroline froze, halfway to Bonnie's side, and stared in wonder at Damon's prostrate, groaning figure.

"Stop it!" Damon grunted through the pain, bending in half with the agony. "Stop! I'm sorry!"

Caroline turned her shocked eyes on Bonnie. The witch relaxed at Damon's apology and lifted the spell. Panting, Damon collapsed on the floor, still holding his head. "I hate you," he groaned.

Jeremy swallowed, glancing at Damon for a moment, and then marched over to Bonnie's side and wrapped his arm around her. "Are you all right?" he asked her.

Bonnie nodded. Her cold eyes were still on Damon.

Elena chose that moment to walk back into the kitchen, a large map in her hand. When she saw Damon on the floor, the map slipped from her hands, fluttering to the ground. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, rushing to his side. "What happened?"

"Damon forgot how to be civilized for a moment," Bonnie returned smoothly. "I reminded him."

Caroline swallowed at Bonnie's cool, detached tone. Sometimes, Bonnie really freaked her out. Judging from the look on Elena's face, Caroline would say she felt the same way. "Bonnie, we're supposed to be on the same side here!" Elena scolded her, helping Damon sit up.

"Yeah, Bonnie," Damon chimed in.

"Oh, shut up," Caroline retorted, deciding Damon needed to be put in his place. Both Elena and Damon turned to her in surprise, frowning. "You were being a jerk, Damon, and then you practically attacked Bonnie. You're lucky an aneurism is all she gave you."

Damon glowered at her. Elena sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Damon," she said, the disappointment in her voice echoed in the lines of her face and the slump of her shoulders.

"What?" Damon snapped, getting unsteadily to his feet. "What did you expect, Elena? This is who I am, and you know it!"

"I know you want to find Stefan," Elena replied, jumping to her feet as well. "So how is hurting Bonnie going to help find Stefan? Do you have an answer for that, Damon?"

"_Don't tell me how to look for my little brother!_" Damon shouted, his eyes going red with rage. Caroline flinched at the look on his face and nearly threw herself in between him and Elena. Before she could act, he grabbed Elena by the arms and shook her violently. "I know this is my fault, so stop giving me that look, Elena!"

"Hey!" Jeremy bellowed, letting go of Bonnie and running over to the two of them.

"Stop it!" Elena shrieked at Damon, shoving him in the chest. "You're hurting me!"

Damon dropped her like she was made of vervain. Elena stumbled back from him, her brown eyes wounded and accusing. The rage melted off his face, and Caroline saw regret in his shining blue eyes. He ducked his head and Jeremy accosted him, yanking him away from his sister. Damon let himself be yanked, stumbling backwards and then around in a circle, finding himself face to face with Bonnie.

"Get out," the witch said coldly.

He stared blankly at her, and Bonnie glared right back. Caroline swallowed, going up to Elena and wrapping her arm around her shoulders. Damon looked between them and Bonnie, and Caroline gave him a death glare that was almost as deadly as the witch's glower.

"Damon," Alaric spoke up, crossing from the kitchen. He reached the vampire's side and took him by the arm. It didn't matter that he lowered his voice to a near whisper; Caroline could still hear him. "I think you need to cool off."

Slowly, Damon nodded. He had an odd look on his face, like he couldn't fully grasp what he'd just done. Alaric cleared his throat. "Why don't you all just go ahead and perform the spell?" he suggested. "We'll be back later."

Still gripping Damon's arm, Alaric steered him out the back door. The rest of them stood silently in the kitchen, staring at each other in shock. Several moments passed, and Caroline heard two car doors slam in the driveway, followed by Alaric's car engine turning over.

"Are you going to be ok?" Jeremy asked his sister.

Elena nodded mutely. Caroline gave her shoulders a comforting squeeze. Bonnie walked over to the map lying on the floor and picked it up, shaking the wrinkles out. Caroline turned her head, taking in Tyler and Anna, back at the kitchen island. They were both standing and tense, as though they'd been inches away from getting involved in the fight.

Bonnie carried the map over to the island and spread it out on the countertop. Caroline marveled at her friend, amazed at how calm she was. It was as though the scene with Damon had never happened. She glanced at Jeremy, who looked confused too. Bonnie began setting up her candles, preparing the island for the spell.

Elena came up and stood by the island, watching Bonnie do her thing. Caroline glanced at Jeremy, who shrugged and moved to stand by his girlfriend. Anna looked unsure about the whole scene, and backed towards the wall.

Caroline approached the island cautiously, stopping next to Tyler. He was watching Bonnie in fascination. She kept forgetting how new he was to their group. He'd never seen Bonnie perform a spell.

The candles lit themselves, and Tyler's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He took a step back from the table, glancing at Bonnie in appreciation. Caroline giggled.

He glanced at her and she covered her mouth with her hands, trying to sober up. His dark eyes lit up and he smiled at her. Suddenly, she couldn't tear her eyes away from his. Her hands slipped down from around her mouth and her smile faded slightly. She swallowed, hard.

Bonnie began to chant, and Caroline forced herself to break their eye contact, turning to look at the witch instead. She had a sharp kitchen knife in her hand, and as she chanted she held her hand over the map and sliced the knife through her palm.

Caroline's eyes turned red as the smell of freshly spilt blood hit her nostrils and she had to turn her head away, unable to watch the dark red drops dribble onto the map. She took a deep breath through her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut. Even now, maintaining control was a struggle. When it was Jeremy lying on the floor of the Grille, she had been too worried about her friend to lose control, and although it had been harder with Matt, she had still managed. There wasn't a lot of blood now, so her fangs stayed hidden in her gums – which was where Caroline would like to keep them always. Still, the veins appeared on her face, and she needed a moment to calm her cravings and send the veins back where they belonged.

Tyler's hand found hers and he gave her hand a comforting squeeze. She looked up at him in surprise, but he had his eyes on Bonnie. Part of her cringed at the way he wouldn't look at her, as though he was repulsed by her vein-y face and her red eyes and her sharp pointy fangs, and he didn't want to risk seeing her like that. Most of her had the sense to realize that probably wasn't the case; he was simply watching the spell.

Anna hissed loudly from the other side of the room. Caroline looked up, startled, but Bonnie remained calm and focused on her magic, chanting and frowning, still leaking blood on the map. Her candles flared up higher as she performed the spell. Anna took deep breaths, her eyes turning milky white, and Caroline quickly forgot her own urges as concern for Bonnie's life took over.

She started towards them, but Jeremy was there already, taking Anna by the arms. "You're ok," he said, looking straight into the girl's weird white eyes as though they didn't bother him. "Deep breaths, Anna."

Anna shook her head, backing away. Jeremy didn't let go; instead he walked with her. "I can't," Anna moaned, shaking her head. "I have to go, now."

Jeremy nodded understandingly, and walked her backwards towards the front door. Seconds later, Caroline heard the door open, and then close with a soft click.

Bonnie finished her chant and Caroline looked down at the map. Her blood had congealed into one massive dot, and traveled along the map, coming to a rest on Mobile, Alabama. The witch's eyes fluttered open, and she leaned on the island for a moment, staring at her handiwork.

"Alabama," Elena announced, standing beside Bonnie, although everyone in the room had already seen the results for themselves.

Bonnie nodded. "It'll be a long drive," she said. "My dad is leaving on another business trip Thursday night. I think I'll just skip school Friday, and leave first thing in the morning."

"Sounds good," Elena agreed. "I'll come with you."

"No, Elena," Bonnie shook her head. "That's not necessary."

"I don't care," Elena returned. "I'm coming."

"Elena…"

"I can't sit here and do nothing," Elena snapped. "I'm coming with you. We can take turns driving."

Bonnie stared at her a moment, her eyes hard. Elena lifted her chin and stared back, refusing to back down. Caroline sighed, annoyed at them both.

"Fine," Bonnie said after awhile. "You can come. Just promise me you won't do anything reckless?"

"I promise," Elena replied smoothly. "So long as you promise me the same thing."

"Reckless? Me?" Bonnie smirked. "My middle name is caution."

"Right," Elena raised her eyebrow. "Caution."

As usual, Caroline felt like she wasn't a part of the group. Bonnie and Elena were her best and oldest friends, but far too often she felt like they didn't feel the same way about her. Naturally, neither of them had suggested she join them – even though she was a vampire who could protect them both from bad guys.

Of course, if she cut school and went to Alabama for a weekend, she'd never hear the end of it from her mother.

The front door opened and Jeremy returned, Anna lagging uncertainly behind him. The two of them made their way back into the kitchen. "Did you guys find her?" Jeremy asked.

"Yep," Elena replied. "Mobile, Alabama."

Caroline's eyes followed Anna as the girl headed into the family room and took a seat on the couch, avoiding the looks of everyone in the kitchen. She couldn't blame the other girl; she knew firsthand how embarrassing a sudden lapse in control could be.

"All right," Elena announced. "I guess the best thing to do is get some rest and talk more about this tomorrow. I mean, we finished everything we'd planned to talk about, so…"

"Actually," Tyler interrupted. "I think we have another problem."

Caroline stared at him, her eyes wide. Elena frowned. "What?" she asked.

Tyler swallowed and ducked his head. "There's another wolf pack in town."

"You mean the girl you saw in the square?" Caroline asked.

Tyler shook his head. "She's part of it, yeah. But after you left the Grille today, another one came in and wanted to talk to me."

Caroline's eyes widened again. "Another one?"

"What did they want?" Elena asked, her brow knitted in concern.

"Same old crap," Tyler shrugged. "She said her name was Sybil and she wanted to help me. Asked me to join the pack."

"Well, what did you tell her?" Caroline demanded. Too late, she heard the high pitched, accusing tone to her voice. She flinched, but it was too late to do anything about it. Tyler glared at her.

"I told her to back off," he snapped. "What the hell do you think I told her?"

Caroline blinked, and tossed her hair. "I don't know," she retorted, trying to sound nonchalant. "You said you wanted to find the other girl."

"Yeah, well, I didn't trust this one," he retorted, and Caroline flinched again. She knew she could throw him across the room as easily as a pillow, but when Tyler got that dark, angry look in his eyes, it made a person want to hide under the bed.

"Wait, so she wanted you to join her pack?" Jeremy asked incredulously. "Just like that?"

Tyler shrugged again. "She said I'd have to prove myself and all that, but she was ready to take me in. Something about protecting young wolves from manipulative vampires and their mind games."

Caroline bristled. "She said I was playing mind games with you?"

He nodded, but he didn't look at her again. "Yeah. But she wouldn't tell me why she'd come to town in the first place. When I asked, she growled at me."

Jeremy snorted. "She growled at you?"

"She said she couldn't trust me with that information, and hell, it's not like she was wrong. I was going to come right back here and tell you guys everything, so… anyway, I told her to leave. I doubt she did."

Caroline chewed her lower lip, fretting. Elena looked troubled too as she frowned at Tyler over the kitchen island. "I could have made her talk," Bonnie said.

Tyler raised an eyebrow at her. "No, Bonnie," Elena disagreed. "You've been doing too much magic as it is, and you've lost a big chunk of your power source. We can't risk that."

Bonnie looked like she wanted to argue, but Tyler didn't give her the chance. "You couldn't, anyway," he told her. "She wasn't an ordinary werewolf. She smelled… different."

Caroline frowned at him. "Different how?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, just… wrong, somehow. Old."

"You can smell old?" Caroline asked disbelievingly, raising her eyebrow.

Tyler shrugged. "Apparently. It wasn't like an old folks' home or anything. It was like… an old book or an antiques store or something."

"Wow," Jeremy commented. "That's one crazy nose you've got there."

"Shut up, Gilbert."

"I don't get it," Bonnie spoke up. "How could she be different from other wolves? What do you think she was?"

"I don't know," he replied. "All I know is that she was seriously creepy."

"I think I know what she was."

It was Anna who spoke, finally joining their conversation from her place on the couch. Everyone turned to gawk at her, and she slowly lifted her head to meet their eyes.

"Well?" Tyler asked pointedly. "What was she?"

Anna took a deep breath. "I've heard the stories," she said. "About the Originals? First family of vampires and all that. Well, werewolves had to come from somewhere too, right?"

Elena stitched her eyebrows together again. "What are you saying?"

"No one really knows the whole story," Anna replied. "The Originals wanted it that way. But I do know this much; the war between vampires and werewolves began with the Originals. Elijah and Klaus came from the vampire family, and then there was this second family. A family of werewolves – the _first_ family of werewolves."

"The family Elijah's father slaughtered," Elena breathed.

Anna nodded. "That would be the one."

"And you think this Sybil chick is a member of the first werewolf family?" Tyler asked skeptically.

She nodded a second time. "You said it yourself – she smelled different. Old. If I had to guess what she was, I'd say she was one of the Originals."

"That doesn't make any sense," Bonnie retorted. "Werewolves aren't immortal. There's no way she'd still be alive."

"Werewolves aren't immortal _anymore_," Anna corrected. "But the Originals were."

"But I thought they all died," Jeremy said, frowning. "If they're immortal…"

"It is _really_ difficult to kill an Original," Anna agreed. "But if you're _also_ an Original, killing another one isn't impossible. It took centuries, but according to the rumors, the vampire family supposedly killed the last Original werewolf over six centuries ago."

"Then how could Sybil be an Original?" Tyler countered.

Anna smiled gently at him, as though she thought he was the cutest, most naïve little boy she'd ever seen. "Rumors aren't necessarily true."

There was a brief silence. "How do you know all this?" Tyler demanded.

"I don't know anything for sure," Anna retorted. "But my mother and I were turned a very long time ago. You live long enough, and you tend to pick a few things up."

"All right," Jeremy spoke, his tone good-natured. "Let's say you're right, and Sybil is one of the Originals. How would we get rid of her?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Anna shrugged. "I have no idea, but I'm betting it won't be easy."

"Can you tell us _anything_ about the Original werewolves?" Bonnie asked, sounding irritated.

Anna shook her head. "Sorry. There wasn't a lot of information flying around about them. I mean, nobody thought it was important; they were supposed to be dead. Heck, according to you guys, even the stuff I _thought _I knew about the vampire Originals wasn't exactly true. Turns out, there is a lot of misinformation floating around out there."

"Well, that's just perfect," Caroline snapped, throwing up her hands in annoyance. "Because with everything else that's going on, we definitely need to add the last Original werewolf to the mix!"

"We'll figure it out, Care," Bonnie replied, totally and infuriatingly calm. "No need to freak."

"Besides, we don't even know we _need_ to get rid of this Sybil person," Elena pointed out. "She could be on our side. I mean, the vampires did kill her family, so… maybe she'd want Klaus dead too."

"Right, Elena," Caroline retorted, rolling her eyes. "Because every time an Original anything comes to town, it seems to work out _so_ well for us. Remember Elijah? He was supposed to be on our side too."

Elena sighed harshly, running her hands through her hair. "I know, Caroline, but I don't know what else to do. We're running out of options here, and I need to find Stefan."

"That's why we're going to see Lucy," Bonnie pointed out. "Elena, listen to me… if you're going to run off and try dealing with this woman – don't. She could be dangerous."

"She is," Tyler interrupted. Caroline glanced at him, surprised he wasn't taking the other wolf's part. "I'm telling you, I didn't trust her. And she _hates_ vampires. She won't work with us."

"She'll work with you," Elena returned.

"But I won't work with her," Tyler snapped. "She's bad news."

Elena looked like she wanted to argue the point, much to Caroline's aggravation, but Jeremy spoke up before his sister could. "That's good enough for me," he said. "Tyler's the only one who's talked to her so far, so if he says steer clear, we steer clear. All right, Elena?"

She frowned, fixing her eyes on the island countertop, but nodded in agreement. "All right."

Caroline studied her carefully, not sure she trusted the other girl's acquiescence. Elena had a bad habit of making bad decisions and then refusing to be talked out of them. If she had decided the werewolf could help, she'd go running off to look for her, no matter what anyone else said.

"I'll talk to Ric," Jeremy said. "Tell him about the wolves. See if he knows anything, or where we can find more information. Until we know why they came to town, though, I say we just try to stay away from them. Mind our own business."

Tyler nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

"Definitely do that," Anna spoke up. "If she really is an Original, she won't appreciate you guys messing with her plans… and as of right now, nobody here knows how to kill her, so she'll probably turn you all into dog chow."

Caroline sighed, a little put out. She wanted to do something, but since she didn't know what to do, she decided Jeremy was right. "Ok. Um… should we tell Damon?"

Elena shrugged, pursing her lips. "I don't know," she said tightly. "I think I'll just let Ric deal with Damon from now on."

Caroline hadn't seen Elena look so angry with Damon since… well, since he'd force fed her his blood about two weeks ago. God, Damon was batting a thousand in stupid moves. How could a guy be as hopelessly in love with Elena as Damon was and still manage to do nothing but hurt her and disappoint her and piss her off?

"I think that's a good idea," Bonnie was saying now. "After the way he acted tonight…"

Elena shrugged, cutting her off. "Damon's off the rails right now," she said. "I knew he would be. I just didn't think I'd be part of the problem."

She sounded hurt. Caroline wanted to say something comforting, but she didn't know what. She wracked her brain, but she never got the chance to think up anything suitable to say. "Everyone should just go home," Elena announced. "We have school tomorrow, and we should probably go. I think we've all missed enough."

Caroline nodded. "Ok," she agreed. "Just… if you need anything…"

"I know," Elena nodded, giving her a small smile.

They all said their goodbyes, although Bonnie didn't leave right away, opting to stay a little longer with Jeremy. Caroline didn't blame her… she'd seen the way Anna's eyes had been trailing after Elena's little brother. But once she left the house, she found herself alone with Tyler, both of them headed to the street where they'd parked their cars. Tyler wasn't talking to her, though. He was actually several feet ahead of her, not looking her way. Caroline sighed. Great. He was probably still mad about the werewolf stuff. She hadn't exactly been supportive.

"Tyler!" she called after him, determined to apologize and nip the whole thing in the bud. The last thing she wanted was a long, drawn out, not-quite argument that lasted for days and was laden with awkwardness. "Tyler, wait!"

He halted in the middle of the Gilberts' front yard and turned to her, raising his eyebrow. "What?"

She stopped directly in front of him and took a deep breath, crinkling up her nose. "Look, I'm really sorry."

"Why?" he frowned.

Caroline shrugged. "I don't know. I just… I feel like I've been kind of a pain about this whole werewolf thing."

Tyler didn't say anything. He just stood there and stared at her, his dark eyes boring into hers. It made her uncomfortable, so she lowered her eyes to the… very, very dead grass.

Momentarily, she was distracted. Caroline frowned, looking all around the front yard. The Gilberts' front lawn was dying slowly, in patches. Big brown spots freckled the yard. The flowers on the porch were drooping over and their petals were drying up.

"Holy crap!" she exclaimed. "Is all this because of Anna?"

He shrugged, not bothering to check out the dead plants. "You were apologizing?"

Damn him. Why couldn't he let a girl change the subject? Sighing, Caroline forced herself to look at him again. "Yeah," she agreed in a small voice. "Um… look, I know I wasn't exactly supportive about the whole wolf-girl thing… you know, even before you told me about Sybil, so… I'm sorry if you felt like I snapped at you in there. I didn't mean it that way."

Tyler nodded slowly. His big dark eyes were still steadily trained on her. He'd set his face in a stony, impassive expression. "How'd you mean it, then?"

Caroline heaved a long suffering sigh. "Tyler, come on."

She didn't mean to whine, but her words had still come out that way. He took a step closer to her, leaning over her, his eyes still dark and intense and leveled directly at hers. Caroline would bet her eyes were full of panic. The rest of her certainly was. "Did you really think I was going to join up with her?" he asked slowly, his voice too low. "Just like that? You really believed I would bail on you again for another wolf pack?"

"No," Caroline said too quickly. "No, of course not! I didn't…"

She trailed off helplessly. Tyler shook his head, his lips quirking up in a bitter little smirk. "Don't lie to me, Caroline."

"I didn't," she insisted.

"Are you sure?" he retorted. "Because let's face it; I've done it once before. And while the idea that you think I would do it again totally pisses me off, I could see why you'd believe I would."

He was angry, she noted with unease. Caroline swallowed, and took a deep breath, trying to steady the fluttery, nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach. "I didn't think that," she told him again. "I just… you said you wanted to talk to the other werewolf, that you had questions and stuff… but I didn't think you were going to bail, ok? Just… please stop being mad at me."

Tyler lifted his eyebrows in disbelief. "I'm not mad at you."

"Really? Because you're totally acting like it."

He leaned back from her a little, taking a deep breath of his own. The hard look melted off his face and he shook his head, closing his eyes. "Sorry. I'm just… edgy."

She nodded. "Well… that's perfectly understandable."

They stood there in awkward silence, Caroline threading her fingers together nervously and staring at the logo on his tee shirt. Tyler kept his eyes trained on the dead grass, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets. Finally, he sighed and looked up at the sky. "I don't know," he murmured. "Look, Caroline… I know what I said about needing answers and all that, but I'm not going to join up with this Original chick just because I have questions. Ok?"

She nodded again. "I believe you."

Tyler looked her in the eye again. He leaned a little closer to her, his eyes still on hers, and Caroline swallowed, her stomach performing somersaults. It was so stupid – he was _just_ her friend after all, and yet he was making her nervous. Why?

He dragged his eyes away then, as though he could see her panic. "I should go," Caroline announced. "I'll see you in school tomorrow, ok?"

"Sure," he nodded. "See you."

She turned away from him and headed for her car. On impulse, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. Tyler was staring at her, and he didn't look away when she caught him.

"I really do believe you," she said. "I never thought you were going to bail on us. I really didn't."

His lips twitched into a half-smile, so tiny she barely saw it. "Thanks, Caroline."

She smiled back and nodded. Then she practically ran for her Focus.

It was too much, she decided, sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door. She didn't know how to handle those dark, intense looks he was always giving her. She didn't know what they meant. Half the time she thought he was pissed at her, and the rest of the time she didn't know what to think; she'd just fidget under his look, feeling uncomfortable.

She shrugged, taking a deep breath and starting her car. It was a werewolf thing, she told herself. That was her official diagnosis. If she didn't understand, it was because it was a werewolf thing. She'd leave it at that.

She _had_ to.

* * *

><p>Bonnie parked her car in the high school parking lot and shut down the ignition, her eyes scanning the yard for her friends. Sighing, she grabbed her schoolbag and stepped out of the car, shutting the door with a slam. She didn't see anyone she knew hanging around outside yet, but she suspected they would be soon. It was a bright, sunny morning, with a picture perfect blue sky and a slight breeze that kept the temperature from being too hot and unbearable. Perfect weather for bored high school kids to gather outside of the school and lounge about the picnic tables.<p>

She headed inside instead, and went straight to her locker. The atmosphere was noticeably different inside; stale and too cold from the air conditioning. One of the lights over her locker was burnt out, and so she gathered her books in semi-darkness and tried to ignore the crowds as they migrated down the halls, talking loudly and accidentally jostling her as they passed on by.

"Hey."

She looked up, startled, and found Jeremy at her side, leaning against the neighboring locker. He smiled at her, his bag strung carelessly over his shoulder, and leaned in for a kiss. Bonnie let him press his lips to hers, gently returning the pressure, and then sighed as he leaned back. She gave him a small smile. "Hey," she said.

"Sleep ok?"

She nodded. "Did you talk to Ric?"

"Yeah. He said he'd deal with Damon. I don't really know what that means, but… whatever. He didn't know anything about any wolf Originals, though, so…"

"I just don't understand why no one told us about them before," Bonnie cut him off. "Elijah never mentioned them, the witches never mentioned them, Katherine never mentioned them… Are you sure Anna knows what she's talking about?"

She flinched as the words left her lips, hearing the annoyance and the jealousy in the bitter tone of her voice. Jeremy didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he chose to ignore it. "She said herself she wasn't sure about her information," he shrugged. "But she's older than all of us, so if anyone were to know…"

"Right," Bonnie interrupted him again. "That's true. I just… I can't figure it out, Jer. Why would the Originals be immortal, but the other wolves age and die like people? And why would one of the wolf Originals come to Mystic Falls?"

Jeremy shrugged again. "Everyone seems to come to Mystic Falls," he pointed out. "I don't know, Bonnie. Maybe she followed Klaus here."

"But…"

"Look, I know it doesn't make sense yet," he said, this time interrupting her. "But that's just because we don't know the whole story. We'll figure it out. Let's just focus on your cousin and the zombies for now. Vicki's still out there, and after she and Anna fed on those two men, two more zombies got up and started walking around town. We're going to start finding more bodies."

The cold reality of her resurrection spell's side effects sent steel up her spine. She straightened her back, both guilt and annoyance trying to take root in her mind as the mention of the zombies put her immediately on the defensive. "I know," she returned, gritting her teeth. "If I knew how to find the others, I would."

At least, she thought she would. She would definitely find the two newly made zombies and stop them from making any more. When it came to Vicki, though, her intentions were unclear, even to herself. Vicki couldn't be allowed to just keep running around, making more zombies, but a tiny part of Bonnie was glad they hadn't found her yet. Jeremy's time was occupied enough with Anna. He was constantly reassuring her, helping her working on impulse-control techniques, and talking her through her new diet. They'd laugh together like old friends. Anna would seek him out when things got to be too much. Bonnie watched them together uneasily, wondering just how effortlessly they might fall into their old patterns. After all, Jeremy had cared for Anna. He'd been devastated when she'd died. Now she was back, and Bonnie was afraid that maybe Jeremy hadn't really moved on.

"I know you would," Jeremy replied carefully. "I'm just saying; let's take this stuff one step at a time. We'll deal with the wolves later. Right now, I want to help Anna."

And they were back to Anna again. Bonnie pursed her lips in annoyance. Anna was the big zombie elephant in the room, and Bonnie wasn't handling the added strain on her relationship too well. Things with Jeremy had already been rocky, to say the least. After the battle with Klaus, he'd resented her for making him stay behind. He felt like she didn't respect him; he couldn't understand how important it had been for her to protect him. They'd never really gotten a chance to talk it out either, because Jeremy had gotten shot, she'd performed the resurrection spell, and the crap hadn't stopped hitting the fan since. Now Anna was around, making everything even harder for them, and if Jeremy tried rehabilitating Vicki too, things would only get worse. He'd been in love with Vicki. The last thing Bonnie's relationship needed was _two_ zombie elephants in the room.

They'd been quiet far too long; Bonnie lost in self reflection. "Jer, I know you want to help Anna," she said. "And so far, you've done a good job. Things are starting to turn around for her, but…"

"You don't think we can help Vicki," he finished.

"I didn't say that."

"You're thinking it," he returned. "Everyone is. Stefan couldn't help her when she was a vampire, right? So how can I help her now?"

He sounded resentful again. Bonnie sighed tiredly, her hand rubbing her head. "I'm projecting," she said finally, because she didn't want to argue. "It's just that I've made this huge mess, and now I'm the one responsible for cleaning it up."

"Hey, don't say that," Jeremy murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'm grateful, Bonnie. You sacrificed a lot for me, and I don't want you blaming yourself. This isn't your fault."

"It's someone's fault," she retorted. "Exactly how is it not mine?"

He smiled gently. "Everything will work out. Ok?"

It was a ridiculous thing to say, because so far nothing was working out. There were no guarantees that they would find the other zombies, there was no guarantee that Emily would talk to Lucy, and there was no guarantee that Vicki could be helped. There was no guarantee that Anna could be helped, really. She was doing all right now, but that didn't mean it would last. Bonnie felt farther away from Jeremy than ever, her magic was letting her down, and their whole little group was feeling the effects of Klaus and his plans.

Still, when he said everything would work out and smiled at her in that way of his, she believed him. "I know," she smiled back. "You're right."

"That's right, I'm right," Jeremy replied. "Let's go to class; we're going to be late."

She slipped her hand into his as they walked off down the hall. Even as she smiled and laughed with him, there was this feeling underneath it all that everything was about to go horribly wrong.

* * *

><p>It was a testament to the hell of the past few days that Tyler felt guilty about coming directly home after school and sitting quietly in his room. He wasn't even binging in front of the TV or screwing around on the Internet; he was doing his homework, and he still felt guilty.<p>

Yeah, he knew he couldn't do anything else. Bonnie couldn't see Lucy until Friday. Vicki and the new zombie dudes were gone, and no one knew how to find them. But he was so used to moving around and doing things that he was finding it impossible to relax.

Great. Caroline's overachieving neuroses was contagious.

He tried to focus on his math homework, but Trig had barely held his interest when he was human, and he definitely didn't care about it now. Sighing, he tossed his pencil at the desk and folded his arms across his chest.

Tires crunched against the asphalt of his driveway. Tyler's ears perked and he got to his feet, crossing to his bedroom window. Peering out into the driveway, he saw more than one car rolling along the paved black circle, parking in front of his house. As he watched, he saw Council member after Council member climb out of the fancy cars.

Uncertainly, he moved back from the window. He remembered the things Caroline had told him when he first turned. He knew his mother headed up the Council now, and it made sense that she'd hold Council meetings at their house, but that didn't make him worry less. With everything that was happening lately, he decided he ought to find out what this meeting was about.

Slowly, he crept down the stairs, listening to his mother greet the Council members. There were representatives from all the Founding families – except, of course, the Gilberts. All the council members from the Gilbert family were gone now.

Sheriff Forbes was absent as well, he noted, and so was Damon. Once Tyler realized this, he was immediately suspicious. He waited quietly until they'd all filed into the dining room, and then he crept into the foyer.

He knew someone would be watching the door, so he snuck out into the garden and moved towards the dining room window, keeping low to the ground. He set up camp under the window, hidden behind a small shrub, and strained his ears to hear through the glass. He might not have vampire ears, but his hearing had been heightened enough to pull this off.

His mother's voice was ringing out loud, clear and strong over the rumblings of the council members. One of the men… Tyler wasn't sure who… spoke up: "I don't feel comfortable having this meeting without the sheriff. Shouldn't she be here?"

"Sheriff Forbes has been compromised," Carol Lockwood replied icily. Tyler frowned; did his mother know about Caroline? "I'm not sure what's going on down at the police department, but the sheriff has been evasive and acting suspicious for a while now. She's also failing to do her job. Bodies are turning up around town again, a mere twenty-four hours after that supposedly successful raid."

"You think she's lying?" someone else asked. "Why would she do that?"

"To save her job?" she retorted. "Either way, I've decided to call in outside help."

"Where's Damon Salvatore?" another council member asked. "He's been real good at finding and staking vampires. Why isn't he here?"

"Damon Salvatore is in Elizabeth Forbes's pocket," Carol replied, and Tyler nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity of the comment. At first it had been Sheriff Forbes in _Damon's _pocket, and after that she hadn't trusted the vampire at all. "I don't trust him not to tell her what's going on."

"What _is_ going on?" somebody asked, voicing Tyler's exact thoughts.

"I've called in an outside expert," his mother explained. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Greg Fell. You might remember him from his school days here at Mystic Falls. He's graciously returned to help us solve our vampire problem, the same way he has in other towns."

"Hey, everybody," a cocky, frat boy type voice sounded in the other room. Tyler gritted his teeth; he remembered Greg Fell from when he was younger. He'd been Logan Fell, the town reporter's little brother. The guy was a serious tool. "I see a lot of familiar faces in here."

Tyler listened to the whole meeting, but nothing of interest happened. Greg reintroduced himself to the Founder's Council and outlined some bullshit plan of surveillance. Everyone agreed to keep Sherriff Forbes and her department out of the loop, for a few days at least. When they all started leaving, Tyler crawled away from the window and took refuge out by the edge of his family's property.

The first person he called was Caroline, but she didn't answer her phone. Assuming she was dealing with some sort of student council emergency, he dialed up the only other person he could stand talking to: Jeremy.

"Hey man, what's up?" Gilbert's sleepy stoner voice asked into the phone.

"There was a council meeting at my house," Tyler replied, wasting no time in getting to the point. "Just ten minutes ago. My mother called it."

He heard Jeremy yawn and wondered if he really had woken the kid up. "So?"

"So she didn't invite Damon _or_ Sheriff Forbes."

That seemed to perk Jeremy up. "What? Why not?"

"She's suspicious," Tyler replied. "She hasn't figured any of it out yet, but she knows something's up with them and she doesn't trust them anymore. She called in some sort of outside, freelance vampire slayer."

"They _have_ those?"

"Apparently. You remember the Fells? Their youngest son, Greg?"

"Huh?"

"He graduated a few years after your aunt."

"Ok…"

"Well, he's the guy she called in. As far as I can tell, they don't have any real plans or information yet, but…"

"But he's here and he means business," Jeremy cut him off, finally getting why Tyler was so concerned. "And so does your mom. All right, I'll pass it on to Ric, and he can tell Damon."

Tyler nodded, even though Jeremy couldn't see it. "So… I guess nobody else has heard from Damon yet?"

"Nope," Jeremy agreed, and then he scoffed a little. "Not that you really care, though, right?"

"Excuse me?"

"Hey, man, don't get all defensive on me; I didn't mean it that way. Just… you know. The guy killed your uncle."

Tyler sighed harshly into the phone. "Gilbert, I really don't want to talk about that."

"Ok… sorry…"

"I got to go. I just wanted to tell someone what was happening."

"All right. Thanks. Appreciate it."

"Later."

"Bye."

Tyler hung up the phone and shoved his cell back into his jeans pocket. He stomped back towards the mansion, totally pissed off. Just one little mention of Damon and his uncle Mason, and suddenly he was back in time, almost two months earlier, confused and angry and wanting to rip something's head off.

He shook his head clear, clenching his fists and taking a deep breath. Slowly, he exhaled, trying to remember the different calming techniques Jules had taught him. Sometimes, he really missed her. She'd been way too serious, and she'd lied a lot, and she hadn't seemed to care about human life too much... not to mention, she was ruthless when it came to getting what she wanted… but for a while she'd been his only friend, and she'd taught him a lot about what he was. If she could be there right now, she'd be coaching him through the rage, helping him rein it in…

As it was, Tyler realized with sudden astonishment, even without her around he was doing a remarkable job of calming himself down. The rage was already passing, his breath was coming easier, and his fists were unclenching. He took another deep breath and again let it out slowly, rolling his shoulders. The anger was gone.

He could control himself. Kind of, at least, and that was better than not at all.

Tyler crossed his family's perfectly manicured lawn and then snuck into the house through the rear door. He could hear his mother talking to one of the maids, so he took the back steps to get to his room.

The last thing he was going to do was let his mother know he was on to her.

* * *

><p>Elena sighed as she wheeled her shopping cart through the small market on Main Street. Ever since they'd lost Jenna nearly two weeks ago, there had been a sufficient lack of food in the Gilbert kitchen, and she'd officially decided to remedy that. As soon as school let out that day, she'd dragged Jeremy to the store to pick up groceries.<p>

She had to be careful about spending, of course. With Jenna gone, things would have to change. The money her parents had left behind for her and Jeremy couldn't be touched until their eighteenth birthdays. Elena's eighteenth was still a few months away. John had left her everything, but all that amounted to was a lake house and the original Jonathan Gilbert's journals. She guessed running around slaying vampires hadn't been a very lucrative business.

It didn't matter though. She was going to restock the kitchen and help Alaric make real dinners. Hell, she might even ask Ric to officially move into the house; he hadn't left in days. The point was that things had to start getting back to normal. Jeremy needed stability in his life, and it was up to her to create it now, the best she could. Admittedly, she doubted stability was going to be something she'd be good at, but she was going to try.

Her brother heaved a long suffering sigh from behind her, and Elena turned around to deliver the eye of death. "Are we almost finished?" he practically moaned.

"Just a few more things," she said calmly, feeling like she was dealing with a toddler.

"All you bought is healthy food," he pointed out sullenly.

"Jeremy, are you really about to wheedle me for cookies?"

"I was thinking more like Doritos…"

Elena sighed, shaking her head at him. He grinned at her. "Go get them, then… _one_ bag. We're on a budget."

"Yeah, yeah."

"And toilet paper!" she called after him as he headed down the aisle. "We need toilet paper!"

He waved in her direction and disappeared around a Little Debbie snack display. Elena sighed and went back to comparing the prices of canned veggie brands. The outing was supposed to be one of those normal, everyday kind of outings, where the supernatural didn't factor in, but that had changed on the car ride to the store when Tyler had called Jeremy, freaking out about some Founder's Council meeting. Jeremy had called Ric right away, but Elena hadn't bothered getting too involved in the vampire hunter emergency. She'd planned a normal shopping trip, and she was sticking to the plan.

Finally making a selection, she went to load several cans at once into her cart. As she turned from the shelf, she collided with another customer, stumbling backwards into her cart and dropping some of her cans.

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, struggling to hold onto to the rest of her cans. "I'm so sorry!"

The other customer waved her off and smiled shyly. Elena dropped her armload of cans into her cart as the stranger knelt in front of her and started picking up the fallen items. He was a young man, she noted, with shaggy, dirt blonde hair. When he stood up and handed her the cans, she stared at him for a moment, dumb. He was very good-looking, cute and scruffy, with warm honeyed brown eyes.

"Thank you," she breathed, slowly taking the cans from him.

He nodded at her, giving her another shy smile. "Sorry," he murmured. His voice was raspy, as though disuse had worn it out.

She smiled at him, shrugging. "It's ok. I was carrying too much stuff at once. Should have looked where I was going."

He shook his head, like he was absolving her of responsibility. For a moment, he stared at her, and Elena frowned critically at him, trying to figure him out. He was quiet, and obviously shy, but more importantly she'd never seen him in town before.

"Are you new here?" she asked. "I've never seen you before."

He nodded.

She stared at him and he stared back. "I'm Elena," she said finally, offering him her hand.

He stared at her hand like he wasn't sure what to do with it. Starting to feel self-conscious, she nearly lowered her hand, but at the last moment he took it and shook.

"Marc," he practically whispered.

She grinned at him. "Nice to meet you."

Marc grinned back. Then Jeremy's voice sounded behind her. "Elena, I wasn't sure if you wanted the two-ply or the single…"

Elena whirled around to glare at her little brother. "Jeremy…"

"What?" Jeremy shrugged, approaching the shopping cart with two different types of toilet paper and a bag of chips.

She turned around to apologize to Marc, but the young man was gone. Frowning, Elena craned her neck every which way, trying to see where he'd gone off to, but it was as though the floor had opened up and swallowed him. He was nowhere in sight. An eerie feeling began to take hold of Elena, and a chill went down her spine. Goosebumps cropped up on her arms.

"Who was that guy?" Jeremy asked, sounding only mildly interested.

Elena shrugged, still looking around the store. "I'm not sure," she admitted, the hairs on the back of her neck standing straight up.

"Whatever," Jeremy said, dropping the chips in the cart. "So, which one do you want?"

Sighing, Elena straightened her shoulders and turned to assess her toilet paper options. It would be best not to dwell on the incident, she decided, and pushed away all the creepy feelings. This was grocery shopping day, and it was going to be normal, even if she had to kill everyone in the store to make it that way.

* * *

><p>Sybil stood on the downtown green, at the edge of the grass and under a tree, lurking behind an unoccupied bench. A cool wind was whipping through the square, and the sky was growing overcast. People were passing by, arms full of shopping bags, talking on their cell phones. She ignored them all, her eyes focused on the market across the street.<p>

Even from this distance she could see the young, pretty brunette girl wheeling her shopping cart around the store. Her hair was long and straight, and her eyes were huge and dark. She was as breathtaking as the original, Sybil noted.

The door to the market opened, and Marcus stepped outside, his head ducking left and then right. He spotted her across the road and marched in her direction.

When he reached her spot behind the bench, he rasped out only one word: "Human."

Sybil nodded. "That's good," she murmured. "Then the curse hasn't been broken."

Marcus nodded too.

"We might still be able to kill him," she went on. "Once he comes out from wherever he is hiding. She'll be the key; he'll come looking for her."

The werewolf lowered his eyes to the pavement.

"It might be best," she murmured. "To keep looking for him ourselves and simply eliminate the doppelganger. If she dies now, he cannot break the curse."

Marcus turned to her with big brown eyes, looking both surprised and horrified. He didn't like that idea, she thought ruefully. His panic made her think twice about following through with the spur of the moment decision.

"Don't worry," she smiled at him. "We aren't going to kill her."

He looked relieved. Sybil chewed the inside of her mouth, knowing that if it came right down to it, she _would_ kill the doppelganger just to make sure Klaus never got his hands on her.

"Come," she murmured. "We should go."

She took off down the street, and Marcus followed her silently. They weaved their way through the pedestrians and soon vanished from the town square.

* * *

><p>Damon groaned, squirming on the sofa and rubbing his head. His temples were pounding, and his mouth was dry. Slowly, he sat up and squinted around the room. It was daylight, and the sun streaming in through the living room window hurt his already itching eyes. Yawning, he stumbled to his feet and took in the empty bottles littering the room.<p>

He'd gotten drunk yesterday. Very drunk.

Blood would cure the hangover. Damon sauntered lazily down into the cellar, past the dungeon that once held three police deputies, and to the room where the large cooler sat humming. He popped the lid and pulled out a blood bag, sinking his fangs into the plastic and sucking the blood into his mouth. Drinking his breakfast, he climbed the stairs and headed back into the front room.

The front door opened and he heard heavy footsteps in the hall. "Go away!" he bellowed at the foyer.

Alaric walked into the room anyway with his hands in his pockets, and raised an eyebrow at Damon. "You look like crap," he announced.

Damon squinted at him accusingly. "You look sober. What gives?"

Alaric shrugged. "Had to drive."

"Don't you have some snot-nosed brats to teach?"

"Called off. We've got to talk."

Damon snorted and flopped back down on the couch. "What else is new?"

"Carol Lockwood held a Founder's Council meeting yesterday afternoon, and she didn't invite you."

"Oh, no," Damon simpered. He shrugged and rolled his eyes, finishing off the blood bag. "So what?"

"So she doesn't trust you," Alaric retorted. "She doesn't trust Liz, and she thinks the two of you are working together."

Damon snorted again. "Yeah, right, like that'll ever happen again."

"It might have to. She didn't invite Sheriff Forbes either, and she told the council that she thinks Liz is incompetent, and she's been lying about killing vampires to save her job."

"So Carol's pissed," Damon drawled, tossing the blood bag onto the floor. "How is this my problem?"

"She called up a professional vampire hunter."

Damon frowned, looking at Alaric over his shoulder. The history teacher was leaning in the doorway, staring at him. "Do they even have those?" Damon asked.

Alaric shrugged. "Apparently."

"God," Damon groaned. "Do I _look_ like I have time for this? Send Barbie to snap his neck."

"It's not that easy, Damon. Look, I think we need to talk with Liz."

"And I need to find Stefan," Damon retorted. "And drag his stupid, heroic little butt home. So rounding up vampire slayers? That's going to be somebody else's job."

"You want to find Stefan, huh?" Alaric retorted. "So tell me Damon; how much finding Stefan have you gotten done while you were on your two day bender?"

Damon narrowed his eyes at the other man and said nothing.

"We don't know where he is," Alaric said gently. "Bonnie won't leave for Alabama until tomorrow. So… let's go talk to Liz."

The vampire blinked. He tilted his head, his eyes widening. "Ric," he said with a mean smirk. "Why is Bonnie going to Alabama?"

"After I kicked you out of Elena and Jeremy's house, Bonnie did a spell to find her cousin Lucy," Ric replied. "She's in Mobile, Alabama. Elena and Bonnie are leaving for Mobile tomorrow to ask for help."

Damon took a threatening step in Alaric's direction. "And why didn't anyone tell me about this grand escapade of Elena's?"

Alaric snorted and folded his arms over his chest. "Do you not remember the way you acted the last time you were in her house?" he retorted. "She's not speaking to you right now."

Silence. Damon glared at the history teacher, and Alaric stared evenly back. Stupid Ric; he'd gotten way too comfortable pissing Damon off. It was like Ric knew he wouldn't snap his neck. How annoying… not to mention, very inconvenient.

"You should take a shower," Alaric observed. "You smell like a bar."

Damon flicked him off and stomped upstairs.

Yesterday had been a complete blur, if Damon was being honest. He remembered drinking the liquor cabinet dry. There might have been a UPS delivery girl letting him drink her blood… he was fuzzy on that one. He didn't remember leaving the house, and no one sent him packages anymore, so that one might have been a dream. He _had_ been awful hungry when he woke up.

Groaning, he stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He could remember the night before yesterday… kind of. The part of the night he was clear on was the scene in Elena's kitchen… he'd been too rough with her. He'd scared her. He'd fucked with Bonnie… _big_ mistake. Talk about a migraine. By the time he was done burning down all his tentative relationships, only Ric had been willing to be around him. That was when Alaric had escorted him out of the house and driven him to the Grille.

Another mistake. Damon had drunk way too much. A responsible bartender would have cut him off, but Damon had taken care of that obstacle through the magic of compulsion. Vaguely, he remembered Alaric scolding him for taking out his anger about Stefan on innocent people. Vaguely, he remembered whining about his little brother for half the night. It was all blurry and disjointed.

He stepped into the shower and stood under the hot water for a moment. What he'd done at Elena's house had been a serious dick move; he got that. But he couldn't help it. Whenever he looked at Elena now, he didn't see the kiss. He didn't see Elena, really. He saw Stefan selling his soul to the devil, all so Damon could get a new lease on life.

Why the hell would he do that? Damon honestly believed it would have been better for everyone if Stefan had just let that wolf bite kill him.

Speaking of wolves… this was all Tyler Lockwood's fault. He didn't care what Elena said… he was blaming Tyler Lockwood. He wondered how upset Caroline would be if he killed wolf boy. She'd probably never forgive him… but then, that might be a blessing in disguise. No more Caroline running around his house, whining at him in that silly, neurotic way of hers. Could be nice.

Elena would probably hate him too, though. There was that to consider. Whatever. To hell with Elena; he wanted his little brother back, way more than he wanted his little brother's girlfriend.

Damon knocked his forehead against the tiled wall of the shower. Who was he kidding, really? He wanted Elena _and_ Stefan; he just didn't know how to have them both.

When he finally got out of the shower, put on some clothes, and came back downstairs, Alaric was waiting for him in the front room, drinking the last of his scotch.

"I thought you had to drive," Damon said scathingly.

Alaric shrugged. "One won't kill me."

The two of them got into Alaric's car, and Alaric drove to the police station. Damon checked his watch, noting it was nearly noon. Lunch rush traffic was brutal, and he couldn't help banging his head against the passenger seat in irritation. When they finally got to the station, the place was packed with officers, and the secretary started annoying him with her prattle about Sheriff Forbes being busy.

He leaned on her desk and looked straight into the young woman's eyes. "Listen to me, you mousy little twit; I'm going to see the Sheriff _now_, and you're going to let me."

"You're going to see the Sheriff now, and I'm going to let you," the secretary agreed, her face blank and her voice monotonous.

Damon smirked and headed for the sheriff's office, Alaric on his heels. "You compelled the secretary?" he asked. "Was that really necessary?"

"She was getting on my nerves."

The two of them entered Liz's office. She looked up from her sandwich and jumped. Damon waved at her as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Hey, Liz," he greeted her. "How's Caroline?"

Liz got to her feet and rested her hand on her gun. "Don't you _dare_," she growled.

"I don't understand," Damon replied, his eyes wide and mocking. "Are you mad at me, Liz? What did I do?"

"Damon, quit being a dick," Alaric said. Damon glared at him, but Alaric stepped in front of him and addressed the sheriff. "Look, we know we're the last people you want to see…"

"You've got that right," she spat.

"The Mayor's cutting you out of the Council," Alaric pressed on, ignoring the interruption. "She held a meeting yesterday, and didn't invite you _or _Damon. She also hired a professional vampire hunter… whatever that is."

Liz blinked at him, looking shocked. "She really did it?"

Alaric frowned. "You knew?"

"She threatened to," Liz admitted, fisting her hand in her hair. "Damn it, I asked her not to do this! I told her I'd take care of everything!"

"Yeah, well I guess she doesn't put a whole lot of stock in your word anymore," Damon drawled. "Seeing as your daughter's a vampire and all…"

Liz glared at him. "Get out of my office."

"Whoa," Alaric intervened, holding up his hands. "Liz, we just want to help…"

"I want that son of a bitch out of my office," Liz insisted. "Do you hear me, Damon? I want you out… out of my office, out of my police station, out of my town!"

Damon blinked, not totally surprised by her comments, but still thrown. "Liz," he said sincerely. "I've always been your friend."

She snorted. "You've always been manipulating me," she retorted. "And I'm done being your little chess piece. Step one foot out of line, Damon, and I will stake you."

"Did you say that to your daughter too?" Damon snarled, his patience gone.

"Damon," Alaric said. "Go wait in the hall."

He did as asked, because he couldn't deal with Liz's animosity anymore. It didn't matter where he was, anyway; he could still hear Liz and Alaric talking as though he were standing in the room with them.

It took some convincing, but he heard Liz agree to work with Alaric – just Alaric. "Damon and I might be on the same side – for _now_," the sheriff told him. "But I don't want to see him or talk to him if I don't have to."

Damon almost felt bad for Caroline. With that sort of attitude, he couldn't help wondering exactly what the state of relations was between mother and daughter in the Forbes household.

"The guy's name is Greg Fell," Alaric told her. Damon listened to Liz talk about Greg's big brother Logan – wait, Logan freaking Fell?

The more Liz and Alaric said, the more certain Damon was that none of this was a coincidence. Carol Lockwood calls in a professional vampire hunter and somehow picks Greg Fell? It was too convenient. Damon frowned, glaring at the linoleum, trying to understand exactly what the angle was here.

As he sat in the hallway, ruminating, he heard Liz agree to keep an eye out for Greg and communicate with Alaric. "I need to keep this guy away from Caroline," she said.

The two of them talked only a few minutes more, and then Alaric stepped out of Liz's office. The sheriff did not join him. "We've called a truce," Alaric said. "Just in case you weren't listening."

"I heard."

"Ready to go?"

Damon nodded and got to his feet. He followed Alaric out of the police station and down the sidewalk. They climbed into the history teacher's car.

"Liz is going to have her deputies keep tabs on Greg," Alaric went on. "She's worried he'll figure out Caroline's a vampire."

"She should be worried," Damon grumbled. "Barbie will get herself caught, undoubtedly, and who will have to ride to her rescue? Me, always me."

Alaric didn't respond. A few moments of silence passed, and then Damon asked, "Are you going with Bonnie and Elena?"

"No," Alaric replied. "I'm staying here to help Jeremy keep tabs on Anna and search for Vicki."

Damon snorted again. "Idiot. Who lets a zombie live in their house?"

"I totally agreed with you earlier this week," Alaric said. "But she's trying to control herself, and she adjusted her diet. Jeremy's got really attached to her too, and I can't…"

"Bet the witch loves that."

"Not so much."

"I hate this town, and everyone in it."

Alaric let the petulant comment roll off his shoulders. "We still need to find the other ones," he went on. "The last thing we need is a real life _Dawn of the Dead_ incident."

"Have fun with that while I'm in Alabama."

Alaric raised his eyebrow. "I don't think you were invited, man."

"When has that stopped me before?"

The history teacher chuckled, and shook his head. "Your funeral."

"Elena won't let Bonnie set me on fire."

"Don't count on it," Alaric retorted. "She's furious with you. I know you're worried about Stefan, but you can't run around being an asshole to everyone. Do what I do; get drunk and leave everyone else out of it. Would I like to run around, screaming at all of you for letting me cool my jets in some witch's mansion while my girlfriend died a horrible death? All the time, but I don't. Pull it together."

The acid in Alaric's voice made Damon flinch. He leaned back in the seat and rubbed his eyes. "Ric, look. About Jenna…"

"Oh, no," Alaric shook his head. "We're not talking about Jenna. I'm liable to stake you."

Silence descended on the car. Damon frowned at the windshield. Alaric's mouth was tight, and his hands clutched the steering wheel too hard.

"I'm going to Alabama," Damon said finally.

Alaric nodded. "I figured you would," he replied. "Word of advice? Don't tell them you're coming, and follow them down in your own car."

"Why?"

"Because Bonnie will hurt you if you try to carpool with them."

* * *

><p>Caroline was pretty sure the last place she wanted to be tonight was the Grille. She wasn't sure why any of them had bothered to come, but here they all were, sitting in a corner booth behind the pool table, and eating food – even though none of them were hungry.<p>

Jeremy was there with Bonnie – sans Anna, Caroline noted, but she figured that had more to do with Anna's hunger issues and less to do with Bonnie's possible jealousy. Elena was there too, staring morosely at her French fries, and Tyler sat next to Caroline, his arm propped up on the booth behind her and his eyes darting suspiciously all around the room.

Bottom line: they were a less than happy group and Caroline was tired of trying to pep them all up. Jeremy had been fun for a little while, playing off her jokes and smiles and positive thinking, but now he too had given up bolstering the spirits of the rest of their group. Elena wouldn't stop talking about the road trip she was embarking on with Bonnie in the morning. Bonnie wasn't talking period, and the grim expression on her face was impossible to ignore. Tyler hadn't said much either, and he looked increasingly on edge, as if every second he expected a werewolf to pop up.

She sighed, pushing her plate away and then taking a sip of her soda. The dinner had been Elena's idea, who had suddenly become very obsessed with two completely different things: finding Stefan, and embracing normal. She'd wanted them to do normal teenager things, because if they couldn't work on finding Stefan, then they had to do something other than sit around and mope. Caroline was all for normal, but this dinner _wasn't _normal. It was just five seriously depressed people sitting around a table and not talking.

Not to mention Matt, who was working that night – _of course_. When was he not working? He kept looking at the five of them with these hurt, angry little eyes, and she suspected it had something to do with Tyler's arm being behind her head. Caroline had half a mind to knock Tyler's arm off the booth and tell him to keep it to himself. The other half of her mind wanted to stomp on over to Matt and tell him to stop looking so sad, because really, it was his own damn fault he wasn't their friend anymore. He said he wanted no part of the supernatural stuff, and now he was paying the price.

She glanced at the door, just in time to see her mother walk in. "Oh, my god," she exclaimed. "What is my mother doing here?"

Everyone else in the booth swiveled their head to stare at the door. Caroline nearly laughed at the awkward, totally conspicuous movement. "Maybe she's working late, and wanted to grab some dinner," Jeremy suggested.

It was a reasonable suggestion, but Caroline was far too paranoid to accept it. She shoved Tyler out of the booth and clambered out after him. "I'll be right back," she announced, making a beeline for her mother.

Her mother stood at the takeout register, and Caroline began to feel stupid as she approached the older woman. Maybe Jeremy was right. When she reached Liz Forbes, she took a deep breath and greeted her with a too bright, "Hey, Mom!"

Liz turned around and blinked in surprised. "Oh, Caroline," she murmured. "I didn't know you were in here."

"Yep," Caroline grinned. She felt like an idiot. "Working late?"

"Yes," Liz nodded. "I'm sorry, Caroline, but there's this new development with the Council, and I had to deal with it."

She didn't give out any details, and Caroline didn't ask for any… even though she really, _really_ wanted to. "Oh, it's ok," she replied.

The two of them lapsed into awkward silence. Liz forced out a smile. "Are you here with your friends?" she asked, and Caroline could have hugged her for making the effort.

"Yeah," Caroline replied, smiling back. "Elena wanted to have normal teenager night, so… not that we're not normal teenagers. We are."

They so weren't. Liz smiled and nodded anyway. "I know, Caroline."

Silence. The cashier came over to talk Liz's order. "I'll leave you to it, then," Caroline said.

"All right, honey. I'll see you at home."

Caroline nodded, and then headed back for the booth.

"Everything all right?" Tyler asked when she got back, standing up so she could slide into her seat again.

She nodded. "Yeah. You were right Jeremy, she's just working late. So, what did I miss?"

Everyone blinked at her. Her question got no answer. Caroline sighed. "So… nothing, then."

"I'm sorry, guys," Elena spoke up. "This isn't working, is it?"

Jeremy crinkled his nose at his sister. "Sorry, Elena."

She sighed. "It's all right; it was stupid. None of us can focus on anything right now."

"It wasn't stupid," Caroline assured her. "We need a normal night out every once in awhile, it's just… I don't know. Maybe it was too soon?"

Elena nodded. "Yeah. Look, I'm going to go. I have to get up early tomorrow."

"That's right," Bonnie agreed. "We both do. We should leave."

Caroline felt her stomach flip-flop, and had to fight off an attack of unreasonable, irrational jealousy. "All right, then," Jeremy spoke up. "I'll take you guys home. See you two later."

"Later," Tyler grunted.

"Bye," Caroline said, trying to give them all a sunny smile.

The three of them headed for the door and Caroline slumped against the booth. "Give you a ride?" Tyler asked.

She looked at him, and he caught her eye. Slowly, she smiled. "Yeah, thanks."

They headed out the door next, passing Caroline's mother, who was still waiting for her take-out. Once outside in the crisp night air, Tyler turned right, and Caroline followed him down the sidewalk towards his truck.

As they passed the alleyway on the side of the Grille, Caroline heard a strange sound. She stopped in her tracks, listening. Tyler stopped too, frowning. "What?" he asked.

"Something's down there," she hissed, waving at him to shush.

She could hear the sounds clearly now. Suckling, chewing, disgusting sounds, under the frightened whimpers of a human being. Beside her, Tyler sucked in a deep breath through his nose. His eyes turned gold.

"Vicki," he murmured.

Caroline's eyes went wide. Tyler rushed into the pitch black alleyway, and she followed behind him. There was a young girl hunched over a limp middle-aged man, a curtain of wavy brown hair in front of her face. She turned at their footsteps, hissing. Caroline could see her eyes had gone completely white, and there was blood dripping from her mouth. Despite that, the girl was undeniably Vicki Donovan.

Tyler darted forward and Vicki dropped the man on the ground, turning away and running down the alley at top speed. Tyler followed, both of them turning into large blurs of black. Caroline would have run after Vicki too, but the smell of the man's blood stopped her in her tracks.

There was _so_ much of it. She whimpered, inhaling the coppery stench, her stomach growling ravenously. She felt the veins protrude around her eyes, and she winced as her fangs thrust through her gums.

She shook her head, trying to take deep breaths and calm herself, but every breath carried both the stench and the _taste_ of the man's blood… it was everywhere, splattered all over the wall above his head. She turned towards him, and he stared blankly back at her. His heart beat was too slow, practically non-existent, and she couldn't hear his breath… but she could smell his blood in the air, and that was all that mattered.

All the rational parts of her melted away and the only part left was the hungry monster. She flung herself at the man and sunk her teeth into his neck.

"No! Caroline!"

A strong arm wrapped itself around her waist and flung her off the man and into a wall. Fangs flashing, she threw herself at the intruder and knocked him on his back. He struggled under her, but she had him pinned.

"Caroline, stop!"

She looked down into the other person's eyes… very yellow eyes. Suddenly, she froze. "Tyler?" she whimpered, crawling backwards.

He sat up and reached for her. She could still taste blood in her mouth. "Oh, no," she murmured, scooting back from him. "No, no, _no_…"

Her back hit the brick wall of the Grille and she rose to her feet, staring in horror at the man in the alleyway. Tyler got up off the ground and walked over to her, his eyes returning to their normal brown color. Caroline could still feel her fangs and her veins, but no matter what she did, they wouldn't go away. The stench of the blood was too much.

His hands closed around her shoulders. Caroline blinked up at him, still shaking her head.

"Oh my god."

The voice at the entrance to the alleyway was all too familiar, and the sound of it turned Caroline's stomach. She looked at the end of the alleyway, her eyes stinging with tears.

Her mother stood there, a takeout bag held loosely in her hand, gaping at the man lying on the other side of the alley. Caroline flinched when her mother's eyes fell on her, wide and shocked by her daughter's vampire face and the blood on her chin. Liz Forbes's hand went up to her mouth and she blinked rapidly.

"Mom?" Caroline whimpered.

Liz looked away, swallowing hard. Caroline blinked, feeling a warm tear roll down her cheek. "What happened?" her mother asked in a low voice.

"He was like that when we got there," Tyler spoke up. "Whatever did it got away."

Liz shook her head, staring at the man in the alleyway. "There was just too much blood," Tyler went on. "It wasn't… she didn't…"

"I need to call this in," Liz said slowly, walking over to the man on the alley floor. Her fingers found his pulse point.

"Is he…?" Caroline started to ask, but Liz cut her off.

"He's dead. Tyler, will you take Caroline home please?"

Tyler stared at Liz's back. "Sure."

Caroline watched her mother pull out her phone. Tyler took her by the arm and led her down the alleyway, towards the rear entrance to the Grille. She barely noticed him pushing her through the door. The lighting in the restaurant hurt her eyes, and she failed to see where she was going. It didn't matter because Tyler tugged her into the nearest bathroom and blocked the door with a trashcan.

"Clean up real quick and then we can get the hell out of here," he said.

Caroline ignored him, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking, and tears were falling freely down her face, pooling in her palms. "Caroline," she heard Tyler say.

She shook her head childishly, still crying into her hands. Tyler sighed. "He was dead already," he pointed out. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Didn't he get it? That wasn't the problem! She groaned into her hands, still sobbing, and turned away from him, stumbling into the sink. She felt the warmth of his body as he came up beside her and turned on the faucet. Caroline let her hands fall from her face and squinted into the mirror. Her face had returned to normal, but her mouth was still bloody and her makeup was running. The blood and mascara had stained her hands.

Tyler handed her a wet paper towel. With a shaking hand, she patted at the blood on her face, wiping it away as best she could. Her mother's face kept appearing in her head. She'd look so horrified. Caroline had known the adjustment wouldn't be easy; that it would take a lot of time for the two of them to _actually_ be ok, but her mother's reaction had hit her hard anyway. She sniffled, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

She felt Tyler's warm hand settle between her shoulder blades. He rubbed her back, up and down, and she felt a strange shiver travel up her spine and into the back of her head. Swallowing, she took another wet towel from him and wiped the rest of the blood and makeup off her face. Then she scrubbed her hands clean under the running faucet.

When she was done, she turned to him, opening her mouth to say she was ready. Nothing came out. Instead, she squeaked, like a chipmunk or some other stupid rodent. She had to swallow back a sudden, fresh wave of tears.

She didn't expect Tyler to hug her, but he did. His arms closed around her, and he pulled her in against him. Caroline all but melted into his chest, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "You lost it for like a second," he told her, passing it off like it was no big deal. "It happens. You're ok now."

"My mom saw me all… with the blood…"

His fingers were weaving through her hair now. Caroline swallowed again, tears leaking through her tightly shut eyelids. "She's going to hate me now, for real," she sobbed into his shoulder.

"No, she won't," he replied. Caroline didn't believe him, but she kind of loved him for saying it.

She took a deep breath, inhaling Tyler's scent: his soap and his aftershave and the leather of his jacket, and that musky little werewolf smell underneath it all. Slowly, she untangled herself from him and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Sorry," she murmured. "Thanks."

He smiled at her and brushed his thumb against her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. Caroline stared at him, suddenly uncomfortable with the way his eyes were boring into hers. He was much too close to her face, and sudden panic seized her. He couldn't possibly be thinking about kissing her, could he? She still had a mouth full of blood. She'd be disgusting. More importantly, this was Tyler, and Tyler shouldn't – _couldn't _be kissing her, not now, not after… not when she still…

Swallowing, she tore her eyes away and looked down at the bathroom floor. Tyler let his hand fall away from her face, and took hold of her arm. "Ready?" he asked.

She nodded. He led her out of the bathroom and back towards the rear doors.

"Seriously, guys? In the _bathroom_, in the place where I _work_?"

It was Matt's voice that stopped them in their tracks, Tyler's hand already against the cold steel door. Caroline turned to look at her ex-boyfriend, who was standing behind them with a dishrag handing loosely from his fingers and his chest heaving up and down. His blue eyes were both angry and hurt.

"Matt," she whispered. "I…"

"Back off," Tyler snapped.

His shoulders were tight and she could see his hands twitching at his sides. Tyler was close to the edge, and if Matt said another word, he might just push him there.

Matt scoffed. "Look, if you two want to do… whatever, go right ahead. Just don't do it in front of me; it's not cool."

"Not everything is about you!" Tyler barked, taking a threatening step towards his ex-friend.

Caroline caught him in the chest, pushing him back a step. "Tyler, don't," she chastised him. "It's ok. He's just upset."

Tyler snorted. Matt stared at her, wide-eyed, his eyes traveling down to her chest. Caroline frowned, majorly confused, until she looked down and saw the blood stains on her plain green tank. She folded her arms in front of her, trying to hide the blood, but it was too late.

"What happened?" Matt demanded. "Whose blood is that?"

Caroline shook her head, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes again. "It wasn't… I didn't mean…"

Matt shook his head, closing his eyes and running his hands through his hair. "You know what? Don't tell me; I don't want to know."

Then he turned away from both of them and marched back out into the dining room. Caroline stared at his retreating back, catching her lower lip between her teeth. Tyler thrust something into her hand, and she looked down in surprise to see his car keys.

"Go wait in the truck," he told her.

"Tyler," she said in a low, warning voice.

"I have to talk to him," he cut her off, turning to her with huge, sincere eyes. It threw her off completely. He didn't even look angry anymore.

Slowly, hesitantly, she nodded. "Just… if you're going to fight with him… don't. Ok? He's dealing with a lot…"

"We all are," Tyler retorted. "He needs to suck it up."

She smacked him in the arm. "Tyler, that's not fair! He's your best friend."

"Yeah, I know," he muttered sulkily. "Look, we need to just get everything out in the open, all right? Maybe it won't fix anything, but…"

He trailed off and shrugged. "Whatever. Just wait in the truck."

Then he headed off towards the dining room. Caroline had half a mind to chase him down and drag him back, but the blood on her shirt kept her in the back hall. She couldn't march into the Grille looking like this.

She snuck out the back door, letting the tears fall freely again. It was just a little too much to handle at the moment. Vicki, dead body, sudden loss of control over urges… followed by her mother, and then Matt… but mostly her mother was the issue, when she got right down to it. Matt's behavior had hurt, but she knew he wasn't ok with this stuff. She was slowly getting used to him not being around. Every day it hurt less. But her mother? She needed her mother to be ok with what she was.

The alleyway was empty, leaving Caroline to wonder how long she'd been in the bathroom with Tyler. Her mother was gone, and so was the body. She'd bet both of them were down at the police department right now. Crossing the street, she pulled out her phone and typed a quick text message to her mother, warning her that the body might reanimate and it would be best to cremate the poor man straight off. Liz might not want to speak to her or even look at her right now, but she did not want some newly awakened zombie sinking its teeth into her mother.

Caroline took a deep breath and leaned against Tyler's truck, blinking furiously. She had to stop crying. After all, her mother hadn't staked her on sight in the alleyway, so maybe she could forgive her for losing control. Still, Caroline couldn't forget the disgust on her mother's face when she saw the blood on Caroline's lips.

She focused on the moon hanging overhead. It was a little less than half full. Caroline stared at it, taking calming breaths, trying to regain her composure. She couldn't help thinking that there was no way this night could get any worse.

There was a low growl off to the right. Instinctively, Caroline's hairs stood on end. Of course, she thought ruefully. Because just when it seemed like the night couldn't get worse, that was the point where it inevitably did. Resigned, she pushed herself off the truck, turning towards the sound.

A snarl sounded from around the front end of the truck, and Caroline froze, flinching. She waited a moment, but didn't hear anything else. Frowning, she took a hesitant step towards the front bumper.

She jumped, stifling a surprised little shriek as a large, black animal leapt out from behind the car. The animal planted all four feet in front of Caroline, its canines bared, snarling and staring at her with angry yellow eyes.

It was a wolf. Caroline swallowed, eyeing the big black wolf, and began to back away. Another snarl escaped the animal's throat as it lowered itself closer to the ground, preparing to pounce. Her stomach turned, and her legs started to shake. "It's not the full moon," Caroline squeaked out.

The wolf snarled back. She jumped, flinching instinctively. "It's just a normal wolf," she told herself. "_Normal wolf_. It can't hurt me." The wolf growled in response, as though disagreeing with her. Caroline swallowed, taking a step back. "Easy, girl," she whispered soothingly to the large animal. "Nice wolf, _good_ wolf…"

Suddenly, the snarling animal lunged, flying off the pavement. Caroline screamed, trying to duck, but the wolf was too fast. In a blur of black fur, the wolf was on her. Caroline's back hit the scratchy black asphalt and the wolf planted its paws firmly in her chest, snarling and drooling above her face. She struggled, but the wolf was too strong. Its fangs flashed too close to her eyes, and Caroline screamed again, feeling more tears threatening to spill over.

There was another snarl, and Caroline turned her head away in panic. Large, wet drops of saliva dripped onto her skin. The wolf growled again. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the wolf's hot breath on her neck, and waited for that fatal bite.


	8. Show Me Your Teeth

On the Origin of Species

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I am not associated with anything _Vampire Diaries_, and I make no profit off this fan fiction. Also, I stole the title from Charles Darwin. Don't sue, please… I've got nothing but some pocket change and a car that won't start.

Summary: After Elijah's betrayal, another Original comes to Mystic Falls to kill the hybrid, and discovers that history is about to repeat itself. Set post season 2 finale. Forwood first and foremost, but I love all the other characters and their relationships too much not to play with those too… and those could end up going anywhere.

AN: Big thank yous to Ancholia, Amanda, Knott-Amuggle, batgirl2992, twotoe, JYLlian, rjt040190, AllCreator, SusanXG, Bee03, carolannw5, Morningdew-1, Nataz885, MizukiSuishou, voz76 and bibby180 for all the lovely reviews!

* * *

><p>Chapter 7: Show Me Your Teeth<p>

Tyler marched into the busy Grille, dodging patrons, and chased Matt down, cornering him by the pool table. All he knew was that he had to talk to him, but he didn't really know what he was going to say. He didn't have a plan. He never had a plan.

"Dude, you're a dick!" was the first thing out of his mouth. Matt whirled around at his voice, blinking incredulously. Tyler sighed inwardly at the look on his face, knowing he'd already made things worse. He wished he'd had a plan.

"I'm the dick?" Matt retorted. "_You're_ seriously calling _me_ a dick?"

Tyler had to admit his outrage was justified, but that didn't make him shut his mouth. "Yeah, I am," he replied. "Because right now, you're being a dick! You want to hate me? Fine, go right ahead! I don't care anymore! But the way you acted back there with Caroline…"

Matt scoffed, cutting him off. "So what are you, her defender now? That's hilarious."

"Just because I can be a total tool doesn't make it ok for you to be one," Tyler pointed out, hearing the strain in his voice as he tried to keep calm. "Look, she's having a bad night, and you being an asshole isn't helping!"

"Don't talk to me about Caroline!" Matt snapped. "Me and her… you can't just… I don't get you, man! Why can't you go after a girl I _don't_ care about? Why is it always the ones that mean something to me?"

Tyler clenched his fists at his sides. "Seriously, none of this is about you."

"That's crap, and you know it! First my sister – who you totally treated like crap, by the way! Then you _made out with my mom_! And now you're trying to take Caroline from me?"

"Whoa," Tyler said, holding up his hands. "You broke up with her, remember?"

"Yeah, but you're supposed to be my best friend! You've already kept all kinds of crazy secrets from me, and then you bailed on me for a month? And now you're with Caroline all over again, even though…"

"Seriously, I'm not doing anything with Caroline!" Tyler insisted, feeling his control slipping away from him. It was taking every trick in Jules' very large book of calming techniques to keep from killing his best friend.

Matt was on a role, however, and he wasn't in the mood to listen to anything Tyler said. "You stole my girlfriend, and now you're hanging around with _my_ friends!" he accused. "What the hell, man? You don't even like Elena and Bonnie."

"It's not what you think," he said. "I swear I'm not with Caroline. She's still hung up on you."

Matt snorted, shaking his head. "Whatever, man."

He lifted his dish bin off the nearby table and turned away from Tyler, heading for the bar. Tyler narrowed his eyes at Matt's back, angry all over again. He knew he should leave, before he lost it, but some stubborn piece of himself wouldn't let him do the responsible thing.

Tyler stalked after Matt and cut him off, forcing the other boy to jerk to a stop. "You know, shut up!" he snapped.

Matt looked surprised at the comment, and Tyler couldn't blame him. He was surprised too – it was like he had no control over his mouth. "_I_ don't get _you_," Tyler barreled on. "She told you the truth about _everything_. She _loves_ you. And you claim you love her back, so… I don't know. If seeing me with her pisses you off so bad, why aren't you still dating her?"

Matt didn't have an answer to that. He just pressed his lips together real tight and looked at the floor. Tyler sighed as Matt stared stubbornly at the ground. His shoulders slumped and he felt all the fight go out of him. "Man, I don't like this," he said. "You're not talking to me, and I'm not talking to you, and everything sucks."

"I know," Matt muttered.

For a moment, the two of them were silent, both staring awkwardly at the floor. "Look," Tyler finally spoke. "I'm sorry I almost ate you."

Matt actually laughed a little. "Yeah. It's cool."

"But it's not, though," Tyler pressed. "It's the whole reason you broke up with her, right? It's half the reason you won't talk to me."

Silence followed his statement. Matt stared at the floor, neither affirming nor denying what he'd said. Tyler sighed harshly, running his hand through his hair. "I can't change what I am," he pointed out.

Matt looked uncomfortable and stared determinedly at his dishes. "I know, man…"

"So why are you holding it against me? Against us?"

Silence again. Matt kept staring at the dishes, and Tyler could feel himself getting frustrated with the whole conversation. He shook his head in annoyance at Matt, who still didn't have anything to say. It was on his tip of his tongue to ask him what the hell his problem was, or call him a dick again, but he forced himself to rein it in and stay in control. _Breathe. Don't hit anybody._

"You won't go after Caroline?" Matt finally asked, and Tyler nearly punched him in the face. They were back at square one.

Instead, he swallowed and tucked his chin. "Is it that important to you?"

Matt nodded.

Tyler shrugged. "Guess you shouldn't have broken up with her."

His friend – scratch that, ex-friend – turned red at that, and took a threatening step forward. "I don't know why I put up with you! You're just a dick! No matter what, you don't change!"

Tyler lost it then, for a second. His vision went red and hazy, and every part of his body _burned_. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hide the gold color seeping into his irises, and lifted his tightly clenched fists. He took a deep breath, and he kept himself from hitting Matt.

Barely.

When he opened his eyes again, Matt was staring at him, his eyes blazing. "If I'm such a dick," Tyler growled through his teeth. "Then why is your ex-girlfriend spending all her time with _me_?"

It was a low blow, but Tyler's newly developed anger management only went so far. Right now he didn't care about Matt's feelings or salvaging their friendship – he just wanted to hurt him. Matt took a step back, slamming his dish bin down on the pool table and glaring at him with wounded, furious eyes.

"Just get out," he said. "I'm done talking to you, man."

"Fine by me."

Tyler turned on his heel, shoving another customer out of his way as he stomped towards the door. His head was spinning with rage, his vision hazy and his fingers twitching with adrenaline. He wanted to hit something – _anything_ – hell, _everything_. The deep breathing wasn't helping. By the time he'd left the Grille and started down the sidewalk, he was well on his way to having a full blown meltdown.

But the terrified scream that rang out from the street quickly snapped him out of it.

He stopped in his tracks, frozen with horror. His eyes traveled to where he'd parked his truck, and he could see her now. Caroline was on her back in the street, an enormous black wolf on top of her, snarling and snapping at her neck. The moon wasn't full, and there was no way the beast could be anything but a normal everyday wolf… and yet, somehow, Tyler knew instinctively that the wolf was anything but normal.

His shock had practically paralyzed him and he literally had to force himself to move. But once he got moving, he was running faster than humanly possible, and throwing his full weight into the wolf on top of Caroline.

Caroline screamed as he collided with the animal. The two of them tumbled together, rolling and wrestling on the asphalt, and then the wolf's canines were deep in his arm, tearing at his flesh. He cried out in pain, his hand on the wolf's throat, trying to dislodge its grip, but nothing moved the beast.

A blonde blur zoomed in from the side, knocking the wolf off of him and into the side of his truck. Tyler leapt to his feet immediately, ignoring the pain in his arm, because Caroline could not be left to fend off the wolf alone. _If that thing bit her…_

He wasn't sure why he was so convinced that thing could hurt her, but he was. The wolf bounced off the truck and nimbly landed on its feet, growling. Caroline lay on the pavement where she'd collided with the truck and Tyler grabbed her by the arm, hauling her to her feet and shoving her behind him. She protested, pushing at him a little, but he ignored her, pinning her between his back and the truck. The wolf was crouching low to the street, snarling at him. Tyler stared back wide-eyed, wishing he looked more challenging or threatening, and less freaked out of his mind.

As he stared into the wolf's bright gold eyes, he knew with absolute certainty that this was no normal animal. He knew exactly what it was – what _she_ was. And then suddenly, with a clarity he couldn't explain, he knew that the wolf wouldn't hurt him.

But she _was_ going to hurt Caroline, and he wasn't letting that happen. The vampire was still behind him, tugging at the back of his jacket, demanding that he stop being an idiot. Tyler tuned her out, still eyeing the wolf in front of them. The wolf snarled and snapped at him, lunging forward. Tyler stood his ground, a low growl of his own rumbling deep in his chest, and the wolf stopped short.

Caroline pushed him off her at that moment, apparently tired of him 'being an idiot,' and determined to save him from his stupidity. The wolf pounced immediately. Tyler threw himself in between them and the wolf tackled him instead, tearing into his chest. He cried out in pain as the sharp teeth ripped through his flesh, pulling away skin and bits of meat. Summoning all his strength, he pushed the wolf away. It hit the street, taking some of his skin with it, and then it leapt right back up. Caroline knelt instantly at his side. "Tyler!" she cried out in horror, her eyes fixed on his bleeding chest.

He was on his feet already, glowering determinedly at the angry wolf as he hauled Caroline off her knees and shoved her behind him once again. When she fought him a second time, he slammed her into the truck and snarled at her. "_Stay behind me, damn it!_"

She went wide eyed and froze against the car, shocked into silence by his tone and his yellow eyes. Tyler whirled around to face the wolf, Caroline pressed against his back. The wolf was growling at him, but he didn't move.

Then the thing freaking _barked_ at him. Tyler didn't give an inch. There was one more, loud, angry snarl, and then the wolf's tail slumped between its back legs. Tyler held his ground, still glaring at the animal. The wolf turned away, and suddenly became a streak of black fur as it ran off into the square.

Tyler didn't move for a long time, half expecting it to come charging back the moment he stepped away from Caroline. He could feel Caroline's fingers digging into his back through his coat, but he stayed put until the wolf's scent had faded enough to convince him she was gone.

He stepped away from Caroline and grimaced, his hand going to his chest. Groaning, he slumped against the truck, staring at the blood on his fingers.

"You idiot!" Caroline shouted at him, her voice a high-pitched hysterical shriek. Tyler grimaced again, and she grabbed him around the waist, half carrying him around to the passenger side of the truck.

"I'm fine," he tried to tell her, but Caroline wasn't having any of that.

"What is wrong with you?" she demanded, yanking open the door and shoving him inside. "That thing almost killed you! Look at this!"

She tore his shirt open, and it was decidedly less sexy than it should have been. Her hand flew up to her mouth and she blinked back sudden tears. "Oh, my god," she breathed.

He looked down at his bare chest. The right side was bleeding and mangled, but he could already feel the itch and burn that told him it was healing. "It's not that bad," he said, which wasn't true at all. Still, if it'd heal by tomorrow, what was the big deal?

She shook her head furiously, and then peeled off his jacket. He felt her cool fingers against his skin as she rolled up his shirt sleeve and examined the bite on his arm. "Hey, everything's fine," he told her. "It's already healing. Calm down."

His words didn't calm her down at all; instead they had the opposite effect. "You were just letting that thing rip you apart!" she shouted at him. "You can't _do_ things like that, Tyler!"

"It was going to bite you!" he shouted back. "You would have died, Caroline!"

He was glaring at her, his chest heaving up and down. Caroline blinked, her eyes wet and her lip trembling. "It's not the full moon," she pointed out helplessly.

Tyler shrugged stubbornly. "I don't care. That was _not_ a normal wolf."

She stared at him in silence, her lip still trembling. He wished she'd stop – it was pissing him off, watching that lip tremble. Mostly, it was making him pissed at himself. Tyler sighed and glared at the pavement under his truck.

"Can the Originals… do you think they can shift at will?" Caroline asked.

He shrugged again. When he didn't reply, Caroline sighed but didn't push the subject. Instead, she reached out and tore away a large chunk of his ruined shirt. He stared at her as she balled it up and pressed it against the mangled mess that was once his right pectoral. She looked like she was going to cry again, and that was the last thing either of them needed at the moment.

"Hey," he whispered. She blinked up at him. "Look at all this blood," he smirked. "You're not even wearing your fangy face."

It was unexpected, the way she suddenly threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. Tyler froze as she hugged him, shocked. He could feel tears pooling against his skin, and he slowly thawed out, circling his arms around her waist and pulling her tightly against him. A smile spread across his face, and he didn't need a mirror to know he looked totally goofy. God, he was such a sap. Although, if he'd known sooner that the quickest way to get Caroline pressed up against him like this was to have an Original werewolf bite the crap out of him…

She yanked back from him and slapped his chest, and Tyler wondered if maybe Caroline could read minds. "I can't believe you did that!" she snapped. "You are _such_ an idiot, Tyler Lockwood! Now is not the time to develop a hero complex, do you understand me?"

He just smiled at her. Caroline glowered at him with her red, puffy eyes. "What are you grinning at?"

"Nothing."

She shoved him into the truck all the way and slammed the door. Seconds later she was climbing into the cab and putting his keys in the ignition. He watched her, a smile still lurking on his lips, and she reached for his hand, folding it on top of the cloth scrap she'd pressed to his injured chest. "Keep pressure on that," she instructed… as if she had any idea what she was talking about.

He smirked at her, and she made a face before starting the truck and pulling away from the curb. "Are you all right?" he asked.

She snorted. "Um, I'm sorry, but aren't _you_ the one bleeding all over your upholstery?"

"She didn't bite you, did she?"

"The rabid beast is a she now?"

Tyler nodded. He didn't bother explaining himself; he _couldn't _explain himself. He just knew that the wolf had been Sybil, just like he'd _known_ she wasn't really going to hurt him. "You didn't answer the question."

Caroline sighed, and then forced a smile for him. "I'm fine. No bites here. Let's just get you home, ok?"

He didn't argue. He was _way_ too tired to argue. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes, squeezing the shreds of his shirt against the messy wound on his chest. The adrenaline had worn off now, and his eyelids were getting heavy. Wrestling wild animals totally sucked. That was one extracurricular activity he would not be making into a habit.

Although, if Caroline was guaranteed to hug him like that every time he did wrestle a fully transformed werewolf, he might be a big enough idiot to make it a habit after all.

* * *

><p>Alaric yawned as he slid through the Gilberts' back door, a large brown bag in his arms. He knew Elena had already gone grocery shopping that day, but if he was going to be staying there all the time, he wanted to contribute to the household. It was an odd feeling, but he just felt responsible for the two Gilbert teens. So he'd bought a few items he knew Elena hadn't – expensive things she'd decided weren't in the budget. He was hoping to sneak the stuff into the kitchen so she wouldn't have an opportunity to turn it down.<p>

Setting the bag on the kitchen island, he then made his way into the dining room and got himself a drink from the bar. Scotch in hand, he headed back to the kitchen and began unloading groceries. Ever since he lost Jenna, Alaric had been unable to stay away from two things; alcohol, and the Gilberts.

He sipped his drink, sliding a carton into a cupboard. "Ric?" a voice asked from behind him.

Alaric jumped, spinning around to see Elena standing in the kitchen. "Oh, um… hey," he said.

She raised her eyebrow at him. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Uh… just restocking some of the groceries I used."

Elena nodded, her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him. Alaric shifted uncomfortably under her hard gaze. He knew he was fifteen years older than her, but when she looked at him like that, _he_ felt like the teenager and she seemed like the mom.

"I think we need to talk," she told him.

Alaric nodded, setting his glass on the counter. "Of course. Talk away."

She sat down at the island, and Alaric leaned against the counter. "I think… you know, if you want to," Elena began. "Maybe you should move in with us."

He blinked at her, stunned. "I mean," she went on, not really looking at him. "You've been spending a lot of time here since Jenna, and…" Elena trailed off, swallowed and blinked furiously. "Uh… well, it's actually been kind of nice."

Alaric gave a hollow laugh. "Just kind of, huh?"

Elena smiled slightly. "I think it would be good for Jeremy," she said. "Maybe it would be good for you too."

"What about you?"

She stared at the countertop. "I think it could work out for all of us."

He nodded, studying her as she avoided his eyes. "I mean, your apartment probably isn't safe anymore," she went on. "Klaus can get in and out, and Katherine too. It might be best if…"

"If I moved in here," he interrupted. "I'll, uh… I mean, yeah. I think I could do that."

She smiled at him, and he smiled back. "I have something for you," she announced.

Alaric frowned. Elena reached into her pocket and pulled out John Gilbert's ring.

"Wait," Alaric said immediately, shaking his head. "No, Elena, I can't take that."

"Sure you can," she shrugged. "Technically, it was yours."

"It was Isobel's," he corrected her. "And John gave it to her, and then he gave it to you. It's supposed to be for _your_ kids. I can't…"

"Exactly," Elena cut him off. "John gave it to Isobel, and then she gave it to you. He gave her a gift, and that made the ring hers to do with what she wanted … and what she wanted was to give that ring to you. Look, I can't wear it, and Bonnie can't wear it, and Jeremy already has one, and it definitely isn't going to work on any vampires, so… I think you should take it. John should have never asked for it back, really… it was yours."

Alaric shook his head stubbornly. "He gave it to _you_, Elena."

"Which makes it mine to do with what I want," she returned. "And I want you to wear it."

He stared at the ring in the palm of her hand, his mouth opening and closing. "Please, Ric?" she asked. "Jeremy and I can't lose anyone else we care about."

Alaric stared at her. She stared back, and then slowly he nodded. "Ok, I'll take it. But the minute you have a kid… it's going right back to you."

Elena laughed. "Ok, deal."

He held out his hand and Elena handed him the ring. The weight of the huge, hideous man-bling felt good and familiar in his hand. Smiling slightly, Alaric slid it back onto his finger.

"Could you do me a favor, though?" Elena asked.

Alaric looked up and nodded.

"Could you stop drinking so much?" she pleaded. "That ring's not going to do you any good if you veer off the road and wrap your car around a tree."

He laughed. She smiled too, but her dark eyes were deadly serious. Alaric sobered and nodded. "Sure thing."

Her smile grew. "Thank you."

Alaric watched her get off the kitchen stool and head for the door. "Elena," he called after her. "Could you do me a favor?"

She frowned at him. "What?"

"Could you be really, _really_ careful when you leave with Bonnie tomorrow morning?"

Elena smiled again. "I promise."

He waved his hand at her. "Thanks for the ring."

"Don't mention it."

* * *

><p>Caroline parked Tyler's truck in his usual space outside the Lockwood mansion. The windows in the huge house were dark, and the porch light wasn't on. Sighing, Caroline glanced over at Tyler, whose head was tilted back against the passenger seat with his eyes closed. She gave his shoulder a shake, and he jumped, his eyes flying open and his head jerking around. "I'm up," he said.<p>

She giggled. He furrowed his brow at her before smiling too. "Is your Mom home?" she asked. "Do I have to sneak you in?"

Tyler snorted and shook his head. "Nah. She'll be out until late, probably. She's got Founders' stuff to take care of."

Caroline nodded. She pocketed Tyler's keys and hopped down from the truck. When she got around to his side of the vehicle, he'd already climbed out and was leaning on the truck, massaging his chest with one hand. She slapped his hand away and peeled back the bloody cloth. If she squinted, she could almost think the bite was starting to heal. Almost.

She steered Tyler towards the house, ignoring his insistence that he was fine and didn't need her to take care of him – it was only a flesh wound. She dragged him inside and up the stairs and into his room, where she made him sit down on his bed. Caroline didn't know whether she wanted to smack him upside the head for being such an idiot or hug him again.

He had the nerve to start laughing at her as she buzzed around his room, gathering supplies from his bathroom and sitting beside him on his bed in order to patch him up. "Shut up," she ordered, smacking his uninjured arm. "It's not funny, Tyler!"

"You know you don't need to do this stuff, right?" he retorted. "I'm healing already."

"You are bleeding everywhere!" Caroline exclaimed. "If you won't let me wrap your injuries for yourself, do it for your mother. The last thing she needs is to wash your blood out of your sheets."

Tyler heaved a long-suffering sigh and grumbled something under his breath, but then fell silent and allowed her to patch him up. She cleaned the torn flesh on his chest first, wincing when he flinched and made a small pained noise in the back of his throat. "Sorry."

"It's cool," he shrugged, pretending like he wasn't the least bit hurt. She rolled her eyes at his macho man routine and finished cleaning him up. Then she tried wrapping the injury in gauze. It was a difficult place to bandage, and she had to wrap the gauze all around his shoulder and under his arm to get it to hold. In all honesty, she wasn't entirely sure what she was doing, but things looked okay when she was done.

Tyler was laughing again. She hit him in the arm, glaring. "What?"

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"Of course I do!" she snapped. It was a boldfaced lie, but she wasn't about to admit that she technically wasn't qualified to be nursing him back to health. After all, if she didn't help him, who would?

He raised a skeptical eyebrow, that infuriating smirk playing around his lips. Caroline ignored him, focusing on the smaller, less bloody bite on his arm. "This one's almost completely healed," she informed him, giving it a quick scrub and then slapping a large adhesive on it.

"Thank you, nurse."

"Shut up! I'll hurt you."

"Yeah, and then I bet you'll bandage me up again."

"You're such a tool. I don't know why I bother helping you."

He was still smirking, and she smiled too, letting him know she was joking. She sat next to him on his bed, holding his eye contact a little too long. When he leaned forward, she quickly lowered her eyes, afraid he might be getting the wrong idea and thinking about acting on some stupid impulse of his that he should seriously not be acting on…

Her eyes fell on his bare chest, and she mentally cursed, squeezing her eyes shut. Right, he was shirtless. She'd been so busy doctoring him up, she hadn't noticed before; now, it was all she could think about. God, this was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why was she…?

"You ok?" he asked.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, smiling too hard. "Sure. Yeah, fine. Um… look, you should sleep or something, so I'm going to go…"

"You drove my truck here, remember?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, right… good point. But… I mean, I can super-speed on home, you know, so it's not really a big deal…"

Tyler shook his head, frowning. "You could stay if you want."

Stay? There? With him? Caroline swallowed and shook her head. "No, I can manage just fine, it's really ok…"

"Seriously," he interrupted. "There's a pissed off wolf out there that wants to take a bite out of you, Caroline."

He was worried about her. That was… well, that was actually really annoying. "I can take care of myself, Tyler," she informed him. "Vampire, remember?"

"Yeah," he retorted, sounding plenty annoyed too. "Exactly. A wolf bite will kill you, Caroline, and we have no idea where Stefan got that cure for Damon. Well… actually, we know it came from Klaus, so… yeah. Not an option."

She pouted a little, staring at the bedspread. He was right about the wolf being able to kill her, but she definitely did not want to stay here with shirtless Tyler. Besides, what did he think he was going to do if the wolf came back? Stand in front of her and get munched on again? _Not going to happen, you stupid werewolf…_

"I really think I'll be ok," Caroline replied. "I mean, she probably ran off to regroup or whatever, so…"

He snorted. "Or she's lurking around outside, waiting to get you alone."

"Well, do you smell her?"

Tyler shrugged and glared at the floor. "She's older than me. She could… I don't know, be staying downwind or whatever."

Caroline laughed out loud. "Staying downwind?"

"Shut up. Look, I'd feel better if you stayed here, all right? I mean… what if I mess up your awesome bandaging and need you to fix it?"

There was that infuriating smirk again. Caroline smacked him in the arm. "_You_ shut up! My bandaging _is_ awesome!"

He laughed. She scowled at him. Tyler raised his eyebrow. "You can crash here, and I'll take you home early in the morning," he offered. "You're mom probably won't be back until morning anyway."

Caroline swallowed hard at the mention of her mother. In all the excitement of the wolf attack and bleeding Tyler she'd forgotten her mother's look of shock when she'd stepped into the alleyway and seen the dead body, along with Caroline and the blood on her mouth. She took a deep, shaky breath. Suddenly, she really did not want to go home.

It was stupid and cowardly, and it ran directly opposite to her newly made resolution. She was going to stop being afraid, she'd told her mother. She wasn't going to hide anymore. But after tonight, all Caroline could think about was hiding.

"All right, I'll stay," she said quietly. "Just for a little while."

Tyler smiled at her, and Caroline felt a smile of her own tug at her lips. He swiped the remote control off his bedside table and scooted back on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Then he offered her the remote.

She accepted it awkwardly, and climbed onto the bed beside him. There was a large console on the wall facing the end of his large bed, and the TV sat there. Caroline turned the TV on and started flipping through the channels. Tyler was still leaning on the headboard, propping himself up with one of the pillows. His eyelids were drooping.

He'd be asleep soon, Caroline rationalized. She felt awkward sitting on his bed with him, although she couldn't begin to fathom why. Awkward wasn't usually a term that applied to their friendship. Things got weird every once in awhile, but mostly she was completely comfortable around him. People didn't go through the things they'd been through together and come out the other side still acting awkward.

But there was some sort of shift happening now, and Caroline wasn't sure she liked it, or if she even understood it. She wanted to avoid it; she wanted to pretend it wasn't real; she wanted to not overanalyze everything for once in her life. If she thought too hard on it, she might figure out exactly what that shift was, and that was a terrifying thought.

Caroline leaned against the headboard too and stared determinedly at the TV. She'd stay until Tyler fell asleep, to assuage his concerns about the wolf thing still being out there. Then, once he was out, she'd leave.

The last thing she needed, after all, was to spend the night in Tyler Lockwood's bed.

* * *

><p>It was inching towards three in the morning when Matt finally wheeled his beat up old truck into his driveway. His eyelids were heavy and all he wanted was to fall into his bed and go to sleep. He still had school in the morning, and it was going to be hard getting up on time as it was.<p>

When he shut down the engine and climbed out of the cab, the first thing he noticed was that the large bush by the garage was dead. Matt froze in the driveway, staring at the dead shrub, trying to remember what it looked like the last time he'd seen it. He could have sworn it had not only been alive, but healthy and flourishing. Now the leaves had browned and fallen to the dirt below, and he was staring at bare, dropping brown branches.

Sighing, Matt shook his head and brushed on by, headed for the back door. Just one more thing for him to deal with. The electric bill was due by the end of the week, the washing machine was acting funny, and now his shrub was dead. It was the perfect ending to the perfect night; seeing all his friends hanging out together and having fun without him, watching his ex- best friend sneaking his ex-girlfriend out of the bathroom after they got done doing who knows what, seeing the blood on her shirt that vividly reminded him of just what his ex-girlfriend was now, and then having his ex-friend bitch him out in front of the entire Grille. He'd had enough of this crap. When was life going to slow down? When was the crap going to stop hitting the fan?

As he weaved along the overgrown stone pathway to the backdoor, he discovered that the shrub was not the only dead plant in his yard. The usually lush green grass growing between the paving stones had turned a dried out brown. A lilac bush by the patio had lost its blooms, and was now nothing more than a twisted, barren, black pile of sticks. He'd been taking care of a potted plant hanging by the back door, but now the plant was just a pot of dead, drooping brown stems.

Matt froze on the back patio. The back door was wide open. He swallowed, and debated going in. Something was obviously in his house, after all. But if he didn't go inside, what would he do? It wasn't like he could call any of his friends for help now that he'd shut them all out of his life.

He broke a branch off the lilac bush and took a deep breath, steeling himself. Then he crossed the threshold and froze in the kitchen, his eyes darting all around.

A dark, shadowy figure sat in the living room. No lights were on and he couldn't make out who or what it was. "Who are you?" he demanded, his grip on the lilac branch tightening. "What are you doing in here?"

The figure got slowly to her feet and stepped into the light. Matt gasped, backing towards the door, the branch falling from his hands.

"Hey, Matty," his sister said, offering him a pained smile.

Vicki looked like hell. Her clothes were torn and smeared with blood and dirt. Her long hair was tangled and full of dead leaves. Her mouth was stained red, and tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"You're dead," he accused. "You can't be here."

A sob escaped his sister's throat. "Matty, please…"

Matt swallowed, watching his sister's shoulders slump as she cried a fresh batch of tears. "Vicki," he whispered. "I don't understand…"

"Me either," she whispered back. "I just… I woke up, and I was back, Matty. Except…"

"You're still a vampire," he interrupted flatly.

She shook her head. "I don't know what I am."

Matt shivered, goose bumps popping up along his arms. The back of his neck tingled. Every nerve in his body screamed danger, but he couldn't make himself run or fight or do anything at all. She was _Vicki. _He stared at her, his hands dangling uselessly at his sides. "Are you a ghost?" he asked finally, his voice cracking.

Vicki shook her head again. "No… no, I… something's wrong with me, Matty. I can't stop; I tried to stop, but I'm just so hungry…"

He swallowed, staring at her. "Hungry?" he repeated.

Vicki stared helplessly back. "I can't stop," she whispered.

Matt stood still a moment, absorbing what she'd just said. "What can't you stop?" he asked slowly. "What… what are you… what are you _hungry_ for?"

She burst into tears. Matt's eyes began to burn, and something swelled inside his chest. He wanted to cry too. Instead, he swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke again. "Vicki," he murmured. "Is it… are you… people? Are you hurting people?"

Vicki sniffed, wiping her face. She nodded, her eyes trained on the floor. Matt stared at her, clenching his fists at his sides. His chest was aching. "I can't let you hurt people."

"Don't," she said, looking up at him with bright, shiny eyes. "Don't let me. Help me, Matty. Help me stop, please… I want to stop!"

Silence fell on the kitchen as Matt stood still by the back door, staring at his sister and trying to find the right words. She looked at him with pleading eyes, her face wet with tears, and he felt something inside him crack slightly.

"Don't cry," he murmured finally. "Don't… I'll help you. I'll help you, I promise."

Vicki smiled slightly, her eyes grateful. She sniffed again, lowering her gaze back to the floor. Matt swallowed, staring at her and hoping against hope this wasn't a hallucination. Vicki stepped forward and Matt fought the instinct to step back. When he didn't move, Vicki seemed to calm down. She crossed the kitchen and came to a stop in front of him. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Matt froze for a brief moment, but then relaxed, hugging her back. She was cold to the touch and he could smell dirt and blood on her, as well as something else – something odd and unpleasant that made him want to pull away. He ignored the instinct and squeezed his sister in his arms, tears leaking out of his eyes.

"You're back," he whispered. "You're really back."

"I won't leave again," she promised. "Matty, I'm so sorry. I was so bad to you, and all you did was love me."

"It's ok," he told her. "You're going to stay with me and I'm going to help you… help you fix whatever went wrong, ok?"

She mumbled something that sounded like agreement into his shoulder. After a few moments, they pulled away.

"They'll know," Vicki told him. "They'll see the plants and they'll know."

Matt didn't know what was going on. He didn't know how Vicki was back, only that she was. He didn't know why the plants were dead or what they had to do with his sister, only that she seemed to think they were connected. Most importantly, he had no idea who 'they' were. But none of that mattered though, because Vicki was back. Everything else would sort itself out in time.

"They're going to kill me," she said, staring at the kitchen tiles, and Matt's optimism slipped away. He frowned at her.

"Who's going to kill you, Vicki?"

"Your friends."

_His friends_. Matt swallowed, his eyebrows knitting together as an irrational anger took hold of him. "My friends?"

She nodded. He shook his head, still frowning in both anger and bewilderment. "Vicki, I won't let them get you," he promised. "But you've got to be confused. I'm sure they wouldn't…"

"Caroline tried to kill me," she interrupted. "Tyler and Damon too. The only one who won't hurt me is Jeremy, Matt, but I can't get to him! They're all there, surrounding him, cutting him off from me!"

Her voice was high and hysterical, and Matt hugged her again, his fists clenching behind her back as her accusations sank in. Caroline had tried to kill his sister, and so had Tyler and Damon Salvatore. They'd known about Vicki, but they hadn't told him. Most importantly, they'd tried to hurt her. She was scared and needed help and they'd tried to _kill_ her.

"I'll protect you, Vicki," he said. "I'll hide you. I'll keep you safe."

Once again, he felt like the older brother, even though Vicki was supposed to be the oldest one. It didn't matter though; playing his sister's keeper might have been tiring once, but now he was so glad to have her back, he'd willingly take care of her for the rest of his life.

And of course he'd protect her. Of course he'd keep her alive and safe. It didn't matter _who_ came after her – if any of his friends tried laying a finger on her, he'd stop them anyway he could. Right now, he didn't care what he had to do. Vicki was back, and keeping her with him was the only thing that mattered.

* * *

><p>Bonnie swung her Prius into Elena's driveway bright and early Friday morning, her stomach already turning with nerves. It was going to be a good day for a road trip – not too hot and not too cold, without a cloud in the sky. The good weather did little to settle Bonnie's fears.<p>

In all honesty, she was afraid to meet with her cousin. The witches at the old settlement had been so angry with her for what she'd done to Jeremy. Emily refused to communicate with her. Lucy was a witch too, and once she heard what Bonnie had done, maybe she wouldn't want to help either.

She got out of the car and crossed to the front door of the Gilbert house. The door swung open before she could even knock, and Bonnie had a hard time controlling the bitter, jealous little frown threatening to appear on her face when she saw Anna on the other side of the threshold.

The deceivingly petite zombie offered her a smile that didn't reach her dark eyes. "Hey, Bonnie," she said, tucking her long black hair behind her ears. "Elena's almost ready. Jeremy's in the kitchen if you want to say bye."

Bonnie narrowed her eyes. "I heard your car pull in," Anna explained. "Super ears."

"Right," Bonnie said tightly. "Thanks."

She brushed past Anna and headed for the kitchen. Jeremy was standing over the counter in his boxer shorts and a raggedy old tee shirt. Her shoulders tensed at the sight. Was her boyfriend really traipsing around the house in front of his ex-girlfriend in his boxers?

"Hey, Bon," he drawled, giving her a lazy smile. Bonnie forced a grin back as he crossed the kitchen and kissed her on the lips. He took a step back and handed her a thermos. "Coffee for the road."

"Thanks," she beamed. "Elena still upstairs?"

Jeremy nodded and stifled a yawn. "Hey, I'm sorry I'm not coming with you," he said. "If you want me to, I could throw some clothes on and stuff some crap into a bag…"

She could tell by the tone of his voice that it was a courtesy offer, and he was hoping she'd turn him down. "No, Jeremy, it's ok. You're needed here. Elena and I will be fine on our own."

Jeremy smiled at her. "Ok, but be careful, all right? I don't want anything happening to you."

"Trust me, I'll be fine," she smirked. "I'm a witch. I've got superpowers, remember?"

"Well, you did," a voice sounded innocently from behind her. "You're powers are a little iffy now, though. Right?"

Bonnie turned slowly and smiled dangerously at Anna. The undead girl leaned on the island, her weight on her elbows, and raised an eyebrow. There was a misleadingly good-natured smile on her face. "I've harnessed power from the Martins," Bonnie returned, her voice tight. "It helped a lot."

Anna nodded. "Of course. Sorry. Forgot."

If Jeremy was aware of the tension in the kitchen, he did an excellent job at hiding it. Bonnie watched him hand a mug of coffee to Anna before sitting beside her at the island with a cup of his own. "I know you can handle yourself, Bonnie," he assured her. "Still, be careful."

She smiled at him. "Always am."

There were a lot of things Bonnie decided she didn't like about Anna. Not only was she a complication in the already rocky relationship between Bonnie and Jeremy, she gave her the creeps. Maybe they didn't know for sure _what_ she was, but they did know she'd come back from the dead with a taste for human flesh. Bonnie didn't trust her, no matter how hard Jeremy defended her. In fact, his quick defense of his ex made Bonnie trust the whole situation even less.

Elena appeared in the kitchen just then, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. "Hey, Bon," she greeted her friend. "Sorry about the holdup. Let me grab my thermos, and then we can go."

"No problem, Elena," Bonnie smiled. She watched Elena saunter to the coffee pot and open the cupboard overhead. Her long brown ponytail swung back and forth as she reached for a dark green thermos.

"You sure you should be going, Elena?" Jeremy asked as his sister filled up the thermos with coffee. "It could be dangerous."

"It's a meeting with Bonnie's cousin," Elena shrugged. "How dangerous could it get?"

Bonnie exchanged a look with Jeremy behind Elena's back. They both knew it was a ridiculous question. It could get plenty dangerous. Lucy could decide she didn't want them around, and cast some sort of spell on them. Bonnie didn't believe she would, but it could happen. Lucy wasn't the real danger, though. Klaus and Elijah were still out there somewhere, and Elijah knew Elena was still alive. If Elijah knew, then Klaus probably knew… and there was no telling whether or not they had further plans for the doppelganger.

"We'll be fine," Bonnie said quickly. Jeremy nodded at her.

Elena turned to her brother, thermos in hand. "Ric already went into school," she informed him. "You should go too. I left you my car keys."

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mom."

Bonnie watched Elena hug her brother goodbye. "I'll see you Sunday," she promised. "Call if something happens."

"Back at you."

Elena said a quick goodbye to Anna too, and then headed for the door. Bonnie hugged Jeremy as well, and brushed her lips against his. "I'll see you soon," she promised, hoping her voice passed for low and sultry.

Jeremy wiggled his eyebrows. "You better."

She laughed, and so did he. Then she turned away and followed Elena out to her car. They clambered inside the Prius, Elena tossing her bag into the backseat. "Finally," Elena sighed, taking a sip of her coffee. "I can't wait to get to Alabama. I'm so tired of sitting around and waiting."

"Me too," Bonnie murmured hesitantly. It wasn't a lie – Stefan had been a good friend to her and she wanted to help him. Still, the idea of meeting up with Lucy again was nerve-wracking.

Elena settled into the passenger seat and Bonnie situated her thermos into the cup holder. Then she started the car and backed out of the driveway. Her stomach was still dancing as she took off down Elena's street and turned in the direction of the highway.

She didn't see the blue Chevy Camaro round the block behind her, following the Prius towards the Interstate.

* * *

><p>It was late morning when Stefan woke up, groaning at the sunlight streaming into his bedroom. He rolled over on his bed and flinched when he felt something warm and wet leak through his shirt.<p>

Leaping to his feet, he found a blood smear on the sheets as large as his body. A beautiful redheaded woman lay glassy-eyed beside the blood, her neck torn to bits. Stefan swallowed, tasting copper, and fell to his knees, his hands fisting in his hair.

_No, no, no, no…_

He didn't even remember this one. Didn't remember her name or how he'd met her… barely remembered her blood sliding down his throat. His head pounded the way a human's would after a night of drinking. He'd been high off the blood, and now he had come down and he barely remembered anything.

_Flip the switch, Stefan. Turn it off_.

Stefan couldn't, but goddamn it he was trying. He kept trying to turn off the feelings – he had to drink the blood, and he couldn't control the hunger, and he was going to keep killing for ten years until Klaus let him go… and even then, the killing might not end. Maybe he wouldn't be able to go back this time. Maybe this time he'd be too far gone.

He didn't want to feel the guilt and the sorrow and the pain. He wanted to flip the switch. Why the hell couldn't he flip the damn switch?

With a loud roar of rage, Stefan swung his fist and sank it into the bedroom wall.

As he pulled his fist free from the drywall and shook the plaster dust off his sleeve, he heard a ruckus from downstairs. Freezing, he tuned in to hear the screaming. It was that girl again. Marina. The brunette who looked so much like Elena. She was by no means a doppelganger, but the resemblance was close enough to haunt him. Klaus knew it too. That's why he hadn't killed her. It was why he kept her around. He was torturing Stefan. He was getting off on it.

Klaus would make her bleed and then parade her past Stefan, leering at them both. Marina was usually compelled and didn't seem to care. Stefan's heart hurt every time he took a whiff of her blood.

He refused to drink from her. Somehow, even in his bloodlust blackouts, where he could kill anything or anyone, he'd managed not to hurt Marina.

Klaus was shouting over the screaming of the girl. He sounded furious. Stefan strained his ears, but he couldn't hear Mary. Frowning, he crept out of his room and headed for the stairs.

They were still in L.A., in that same fabulous Hollywood mansion. Klaus had taken over the back room that overlooked the pool, and Stefan knew that's where he would find them all. He followed the screaming and the shouting all the way there.

The stucco walls were full of holes, undoubtedly from Klaus's rage. Mary was in the room too, sitting silently in a corner with tears streaming down her face. Klaus was still stomping about, making a fuss and pounding more holes into the walls. Marina was on the floor, screaming and sobbing.

When he entered the room, she looked up and her eyes widened at the sight of him. He saw relief flicker in her eyes, and it twisted his stomach. Marina leapt to her feet and ran to him, throwing herself desperately into his arms. He never fed on her – she must have thought she was safe with him. Stefan flinched at the thought, knowing he would let her down.

Then he saw her blood-stained face and he stared at her in horror. Her eyes were bloodshot, and there were veins protruding around her eyes. Fangs poked over her perfect, pouty lips. Stefan chanced another glance at the middle-aged witch in the corner. Sure enough, her neck was bleeding.

"You turned her," he breathed.

"A lot of good it did me!" Klaus bellowed, kicking the coffee table. It splintered into several pieces, all of which flew in different directions. "She's a vampire!"

Stefan frowned, watching the hybrid continue his tantrum. He punched another hole in the wall, and then quite suddenly he rounded on Mary and hefted the witch off her chair by her throat.

Marina clung to Stefan's shirt as he tried to assist the witch. Why he bothered, he didn't know – the witch didn't like him, and he hated the feeling of her eyes on him when he fed. Still, he shoved Marina into a nearby chair and charged in Klaus's direction.

"You watched me turn her!" the hybrid shouted. "Why didn't you tell me it wouldn't work?"

"I'm not a mind reader, Nicklaus," she rasped out, choking. "I didn't know what you wanted."

"Everyone knows what I want!" he thundered, shaking the witch violently. "You knew she'd be a vampire, didn't you? A normal, generic, everyday vampire!"

Stefan stopped short in his pursuit to save the witch, staring at Klaus in amazement. He'd never seen the hybrid act this way. Usually Klaus was calm, saying snarky things and smirking in amusement. The things he did were terrible, but he did them in a cool, collected manner. Stefan had never seen him in such a rage before.

He dropped the witch and she fell to her knees. "Why didn't you guess!" she shouted boldly. "Werewolves aren't _made_; only vampires are! You should have known better!"

Klaus backhanded her across her face. She slumped to the floor, her lip bleeding. Stefan clenched his fists at his sides, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head furiously. The smell of the blood was tickling his nose, making his stomach rumble with hunger. He wanted to sink his fangs into Mary McCullough and drain her dry.

Marina let out a shriek from the other side of the room, like a ravenous banshee, and Stefan opened his eyes just in time to see the newly made vampire launch herself across the room and tackle Mary to the floor.

Klaus easily yanked the newborn off the witch before Marina could even take a taste. Stefan watched in horror as the hybrid tossed Marina against the wall and ripped her heart out of her chest.

The baby vampire slid down the wall, leaving a trail of blood on the stucco, and slumped to the ground. Her body turned green and her veins poked through to the surface of her skin. Stefan stared into her empty, glassy brown eyes. Marina was dead.

"You killed her!" he thundered at Klaus. "Why would you do that? You didn't even give her a chance!"

"What would I want with _her_?" Klaus retorted moodily. "She's a boring old baby vampire. I didn't _want_ another vampire; I _want_ a hybrid."

Stefan gaped at him, but Klaus took no notice of his outraged expression. He yanked Mary off the floor and sat her back in a chair. She glared balefully at him. "How do I make a hybrid?" he demanded.

"You turn a werewolf into a vampire," Mary returned scathingly. "I'm shocked you never thought to try it before."

Klaus rolled his eyes and groaned. "I _have_ tried it before, you silly old hag. I don't want _that_ kind of hybrid – I want a _real_ hybrid, like me. There's nothing exciting about werewolves who've been turned into vampires. They're exactly like vampires, only they turn into wolves once a month and spend the rest of their time whining about what poor, miserable creatures they are. I _hate_ whining."

With that, he flopped down in his chaise and folded his arms over his chest, pouting in a way that very vividly reminded Stefan of Caroline.

Mary glared at him. "What you're asking for is impossible," she informed him.

"Obviously not. I exist, don't I?"

The witch didn't reply. She sat silently in her corner, still glaring at Klaus. Stefan stared at the hybrid as well, slowly shaking his head. "It's true," he murmured. "You _do_ want to build an army of hybrids."

"Well, obviously," Klaus snapped. "It's not that I don't enjoy pointless murder and mayhem, because I do. I just also want to destroy and dominate the world. I don't think it's that much to ask."

Stefan continued to gawk at him. Mary's glower darkened. Klaus just sat in his chair, his eyes trained on the sliding glass doors, pouting like a child. His words had not been ironic. He hadn't meant them as a joke. Klaus was as serious as he was petulant.

He knew that Klaus was evil and ambitious and apathetic about the lives of others. He would do whatever necessary to get what he wanted; hurt anyone, _kill_ anyone. The man had murdered his own family, after all. Still, Stefan hadn't realized before that moment exactly what he was dealing with. Klaus was more than evil. Klaus was certifiably insane.

There was a madman steering this ship, Stefan thought with newly discovered horror, and he had no way of getting off.

* * *

><p>Tyler opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the bright sunlight streaming through his bedroom window. He groaned a little, feeling how sore his muscles were. The bite on his chest wasn't completely healed yet, and it stung. The weight on his chest was not helping.<p>

He started, glancing down at his chest, realizing that weight was Caroline Forbes' blonde head. Somehow, they'd both fallen asleep on his bed. The TV was still on across the room, the remote was hanging loosely from Caroline's hand, and the vampire was curled up on his chest, sound asleep. His arms were wrapped around her, and he instinctively let go, lifting his hands up and away from her.

She mumbled something that sounded like a protest and nuzzled his bare chest with her face. Tyler stared at the top of her head, frozen and unsure how to proceed. It wasn't exactly unpleasant having her lay on top of him – he'd sure had enough fantasies about her doing just that, except she'd been much more awake and a lot less clothed in his head – but this wasn't a fantasy, it was reality, and Caroline Forbes was in his bed. What the hell should he do?

Caroline murmured in her sleep again, and slowly Tyler wrapped his arms around her the way he had before. She clung a little tighter to him and moved her head slightly, and then she lay still, sleeping soundly.

_Awkward._ Tyler stared at her, his breathing a little too shallow as he tried to steady his heart-rate. If his heart was pounding any harder, it would totally wake her up. He gently removed the remote from her hand and shut off the TV before laying the control back on the nightstand.

He could get used to this – which was a really bad thought to have. Tyler Lockwood was nobody's hero. He was selfish and arrogant and entitled, not to mention impulsive and angry and overflowing with daddy issues. At least, he used to be all those things. He wasn't sure what he was anymore – but still, even if he had changed, that didn't make him a hero. He couldn't be running around, rescuing people from angry werewolf Originals and then respectfully cuddling with them. It was ridiculous. He needed alcohol and a guy to wail on for no reason, and he needed them now.

Tyler sighed, knocking his head quietly against the headboard. It was too late for all that. He'd had a taste of being the good guy, and he might have liked it a little too much. After all, it got him Caroline, cuddled up on his chest. Of course he liked it.

Great. He was well on his way to being Jeremy Gilbert; whipped and pathetic. Somebody shoot him – not that it would kill him. Damn it.

He glanced at the clock. It was well after ten in the morning. Oops. Guess they were cutting school.

Caroline stirred again, and Tyler froze. Fantastic. She was waking up and she was going to catch him lying here, wide awake and cuddling with her and maybe staring at her like a creeper. Tyler removed his arms and shook her gently. "Hey, Caroline. Time to wake up."

She jumped, lifting her head from his chest and blinking around in confusion. Tyler congratulated himself on the save. "Tyler?" she asked drowsily.

"Yeah."

Caroline sat up a little too quickly for his liking. "What time is it?" she demanded.

"10:40."

"Crap!" she exclaimed. "Oh my god, I've been here all night? That wasn't supposed to happen! I was supposed to sneak out after you fell asleep!"

In her hysteria, she had apparently forgotten he could hear everything she was saying. "You were going to sneak out on me?" he asked. "Lame."

She looked up at him guiltily, and he smirked. "Sorry," she said, smiling slightly. "I just… I mean, I'm missing school right now! Shit!"

"It's cool," he said softly. "After the night we had, you're allowed."

"Oh my god, my mom's going to kill me! She's probably, like, crazy worried right now. Where's my phone?"

Tyler spotted it on the floor and reached for it. She snatched the phone from his hand and checked it hungrily. Immediately her face fell.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh," she looked up, forcing a smile. "Nothing. No one called. No texts. Nothing. Nobody." Her voice got small. "It's a good thing," she told him, unconvincingly.

He just looked at her. Caroline quickly tore her eyes away from his and swallowed, tossing her phone on the mattress. "I should go."

She got up and started gathering her things. He could tell just by watching the way she carried herself that she was sad. Her mother hadn't called to check on her, and it hurt. "Hey, wait," he called.

Caroline stared at him.

"Why don't you stay?" he offered. "Let me get dressed and stuff, then I'll take you home real quick, and then… I don't know. We could do something."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do something? Like what?"

"I don't know," he retorted, shrugging. "Something. What do you want to do?"

Caroline shrugged too, and Tyler sighed impatiently. He wanted to get her mind off all the crap they'd just been through, but he also wanted to stay with her; watch out for her. There was no doubt in his mind that the wolf from the night before was still out there, waiting to make another move.

"I… well, we should tell someone about the wolf," she pointed out.

Tyler rolled his eyes. "I didn't ask what we _should_ do. What do you _want _to do, Caroline?"

She blinked at him like she didn't understand the question. Tyler was beginning to get exasperated with her. Where was perky, fun-loving Caroline Forbes who always knew what she wanted and didn't hesitate telling him about it?

"Um… I want to eat a bunny?"

He laughed out loud. "Ok. Bunny hunting. I can do that."

She smiled at him. "Really?"

Tyler shrugged. Her grin got wider. "All right," she agreed. "Go get dressed… I mean, you're ok, right? Your bite…"

"I'm all healed up," he assured her, getting to his feet. All his muscles were sore, but he didn't tell her that. He headed for his dresser, feeling her eyes on his back.

"Thanks, Tyler," she said in a tiny voice.

He glanced at her over his shoulder. "For what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know… just… thanks. Now get dressed; I'm hungry!"

Tyler laughed again, but he followed her command.

* * *

><p>Elena woke with a start, finding herself in the passenger seat of Bonnie's Prius. Blinking sleep from her eyes, she frowned all around her. They were still on the highway, cars whizzing past them, along with long patches of green grass. Above them, the sun beat down brightly on the road.<p>

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," Bonnie quipped, giving her a smile.

"Sorry," Elena murmured, sitting up straight in her seat. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. Was I out long?"

Bonnie shook her head, focused on the road in front of her. "Just a few hours. It's only like four in the afternoon."

Elena sighed, bumping her head on her seat. "Do you need me to take over driving?"

"Not yet," Bonnie replied. There was a short silence. "Damon's been following us for hours now," Bonnie added conversationally.

"What?" Elena demanded, spinning around in her seat and squinting out the back windshield. Sure enough, there was Damon's blue Camaro, two cars behind them. "Crap. What is he doing here?"

Bonnie shrugged. "I'm guessing Ric told him. And since he's _Damon_…"

"He followed us," Elena finished, annoyed. "Great."

They fell silent. Elena glared at the road in front of them, and Bonnie glanced nervously into the rearview mirror. "Look, Elena, usually I'm the last person to defend anything Damon does," she said. "But I'm sure he's just looking out for you."

"And he wants to find Stefan," Elena murmured. "I know, Bonnie, I just… he makes it really hard to care about him, you know?" Bonnie nodded. Elena sighed, continuing on. "What he did with the blood before the sacrifice… and then in the kitchen a few nights ago… I keep forgiving him, and he keeps screwing up. I'm at the point where I really don't know how to handle him anymore!"

Her frustration leaked into her voice, and before she knew it she was yelling. Letting loose an irritated growl, she threw her hands up and flopped back against the seat. "I can't keep making excuses for him and expect him to be better," she admitted. "It's obviously not working."

There was a very long silence on Bonnie's end of the car. When her friend still didn't say anything after awhile, Elena frowned at her. "What?" she asked. "What is it?"

Bonnie sighed. "Damon's dangerous. He's a jerk. He's a killer. You know how I feel about him."

"But?"

"But nothing. You know how I feel about him, and it hasn't changed. The only thing that's changed is how _you_ feel about Damon."

The words put Elena on the defensive immediately. "He's my friend, Bonnie. I care about him. Someone has to."

"So that someone has to be you?" Bonnie retorted.

"Stefan cares too," Elena replied. "He's just not here to do it anymore."

The witch shook her head, sighing again. "Elena… look, Damon's done a lot for us. I know that. He's also done a lot of crap _to_ us, and I don't want you to forget any of it."

"I haven't."

"Good. Because Stefan's gone now, and he was the only one keeping Damon in line. It's been a week, and Damon's already going off the rails. I have a feeling things are going to get worse before they get better. And while deep down I believe that Damon doesn't want to hurt any of us, I also think that he probably will."

Elena couldn't argue with Bonnie's words. She knew they were true. Still, something inside of her was instinctively annoyed at her friend. She wanted to defend Damon – needed to, even though she knew he didn't deserve it. "I'm mad at him now," she said. "But… he's trying, Bonnie. That has to count for something."

"I'm not saying it doesn't," Bonnie returned. "Believe it or not, I'd like to believe in him too. Just don't forget, Elena. That's all I'm saying."

Silence fell on the car again. Elena took a small breath and studied her hands. "I kissed him," she admitted.

Bonnie's eyes got huge, and she nearly rear-ended the station wagon in front of them. "What?" she exclaimed.

"He was dying," Elena defended herself. "He was dying, and he told me he loved me. I… I couldn't let him die thinking… I don't know, Bonnie, ok? He was in so much pain. He looked so heartbroken."

"Elena, do you realize what a _huge_ can of worms you've just opened?"

"I know, but I wasn't thinking about that, Bonnie! I mean…"

"He was supposed to die?"

The words were cold and harsh, and Elena flinched as Bonnie spoke out loud the very thing she had been thinking yet never intended to say. She stared determinedly at the floor of the car, twisting her hands in her lap. Bonnie sighed, shaking her head. "Well, he didn't die, Elena."

"I never wanted him to."

"I didn't say you did."

Silence again. "This is certainly going to make things interesting," Bonnie muttered.

Elena glared at the dashboard. They didn't speak again for a long time. When they did, it was Elena who broke the silence, determined to draw their focus on something that wasn't Damon or Stefan or the kiss she should have never told Bonnie about. "How are things with Jeremy?"

Bonnie winced, and too late Elena realized she'd picked a sore subject to discuss. "Just great," she said through gritted teeth.

"Sorry," Elena told her sincerely. "I didn't realize…"

"It's fine, Elena."

"No, it's not. I should have thought… I mean, with Anna and Vicki back…"

"They're his exes," Bonnie cut her off. "He loved them, I guess. So… yeah. But at least it's only Anna in your house for now. If it were Vicki, I'd be really worried."

Elena nodded. "He cares about you a lot, Bon. He's not going to dump you just because they're back."

"I know," Bonnie replied, but she didn't sound convinced.

"You brought him back from the dead," Elena pointed out. "Which I'm very grateful for, by the way. Have I thanked you yet today?"

Bonnie laughed in spite of herself. "Seriously, give it a rest, Elena."

"Well, I am grateful, and he is too. There's no way Anna and Vicki can compete with that."

She nodded, her eyes trained on the road and her mouth tight. Elena's smile slipped away as she studied her friend's face. "I don't want his gratitude," Bonnie said after awhile, her voice tiny. "I don't want him to feel obligated to me."

"He doesn't," Elena quickly assured her.

"How can he not?" Bonnie returned. "What if he can't separate his feelings for me from that sense of obligation? What if…?"

"Stop," Elena interrupted. "Don't go there, Bon. Jeremy wants to be with _you_, and not because your powers saved his life. He wants you because you're _Bonnie_ and he cares for you. So stop second guessing your relationship, right now. I won't allow it."

A smile fought its way onto Bonnie's lips, and Elena grinned back, proud of making her friend smile. "Thanks, Elena."

"Don't mention it."

They fell into silence again, but this time it was a comfortable quiet. Elena was still smiling as she leaned back in her seat and watched the cars pass them by through her window. It was moments like this she had missed these past couple months; moments that weren't so much about supernatural drama and her eminent death. She'd missed her friends. She needed to make more time for them, especially now that Stefan was gone.

If she didn't, she was going to lose her mind.

* * *

><p>It was super weird hunting bunnies with Tyler at her side, Caroline decided, but she really didn't mind. He was almost as fast as she was, and had no problem keeping up with her as she darted through the trees, chasing after the furry little rodents. It had bothered her when she first turned, tearing into Thumper – come on, they were bunnies, and super freaking cute – but she got over that real fast. Blood turned out to be <em>way<em> more important than cute little bunny faces, and her hunger demanded to be satisfied.

Tyler had listened attentively as she'd explained to him the same stuff Stefan had told her all those months ago. She'd thought he be bored when she started going on about not thinning the deer herds, and always burying what she caught because the council members might see the damage done to the bunnies and get suspicious, but he seemed really interested in what she had to say. Honestly, his interest freaked her out, because when Stefan had given her the same spiel, she'd mostly tuned him out and yawned a lot.

After she'd had her fill, the two of them walked through the woods together. Spots of sunlight filtered down through the heavy green trees and dotted the forest floor. "Stefan taught you all this stuff, huh?" Tyler asked.

Caroline nodded sadly, trying to make herself smile. "Yeah. He was like… I don't know… my vampire mentor?"

Tyler frowned at the ground. "I'm sorry, Caroline."

She shrugged. "We'll get him back. I'm not worried."

It was a lie. She was so, _so_ worried. They had no idea how to find Klaus, and even if they did find him, how would they get Stefan away from him? How would they kill Klaus? Heck, he was supposed to be invincible now, right? And if they did find Stefan, if they did stop Klaus… what would Stefan be like when they got him back? Would he be the same Stefan? What was Klaus doing to him, anyway?

She worried her lower lip with her teeth. Tyler's warm hand snuck into hers. He gave her a comforting squeeze before letting go again, and Caroline smiled slightly. It was odd, to say the least. They were always together somehow, one of them comforting the other. The past couple weeks had totally sucked and she wasn't sure she'd have got through them without him around.

There was a lot on her mind even now: her mother for starters, not to mention the Original that apparently wanted Caroline dead. Still, she noticed Tyler's downcast expression as he stared at the dirt.

"You miss her," she announced. Somehow, she managed not to sound upset.

Tyler looked up guiltily, and she gave him a small smile. Slowly, he nodded. "Yeah."

"Where did you two go?" she asked curiously. "Like, really? Back to Florida?"

He shrugged. "For a little while. Most of the pack had come up here, so…"

Tyler trailed off and Caroline nodded, swallowing hard. "Right," she murmured.

"The rest of the pack kind of split up," Tyler went on. "It was too hard for them to pull together after so many of them died. So Jules and I drove around together, stopping to see different packs she knew…"

"Did you join up with any of them?"

He shook his head. "Nah. It was always the same. I mean, they expected complete obedience. It was weird. I couldn't do it."

"Yeah," she smirked. "You always did kind of have a problem with authority."

Tyler laughed. "Jules was just as bad," he told her. "She didn't like it either. With Brady she was Beta, so she was used to being on top of the food chain. When you join a new pack, you're automatically on the bottom of the totem pole. She thought it was humiliating. We always ended up leaving after a few days."

Caroline frowned. "Beta?"

"Yeah, like second in command."

She laughed out loud. "Oh my god," she exclaimed. "You guys had little wolf pack titles? Like in _Twilight_?"

He glowered at her, and she laughed harder. "Shut up," he growled. Caroline kept laughing. "Seriously, shut up." She shook her head, trying to stop, but she couldn't. The giggles kept coming. "Caroline, knock it off!"

He sounded so offended, and it made her want to laugh again. She swallowed down her amusement and tried to compose herself. The smirk on her face refused to go away. Tyler tried to glare at her, but she saw a smirk fighting to form on his lips too. After a moment, he gave in with a sigh, smiling slightly and raising his eyebrow at her.

She took a deep breath, and tried to get serious again. "So… what kind of stuff did Jules teach you?"

Tyler shrugged. "Stuff."

"Oh, come on! I told you all about _my_ vampire lessons!"

He sighed. "Just a few things, that's all. She gave me all these anger management techniques so I wouldn't go running around beating people up."

Caroline nodded. "Well," she smirked. "That's good." He shrugged in response. "Seriously, they must be working," Caroline insisted, dropping the smirk. "Ever since you came back, you seem… I don't know. Calmer, I guess."

Tyler didn't reply. "What else?" Caroline wanted to know.

"Not a lot," he admitted. "She was helping me learn to defend myself. Like teaching me how to use my strength and speed to my advantage and stuff. That was all we'd really covered. I know there were other things she wanted to tell me, but…"

He trailed off and shrugged. "Well, you know. She never really got the chance."

Caroline swallowed hard and lowered her eyes to the ground. For a moment, they were silent, standing in the cool forest and staring at the dirt. Birds chirped overhead, and cicadas buzzed nearby. It wasn't really fair, she realized now. As much as she hated Jules, it wasn't fair that Tyler was the only werewolf again. He didn't have anyone to answer his questions, and she knew he needed that. They all did.

On impulse, she hugged him. He tensed up, and then hugged her back. "You're doing that a lot lately," he observed, and she heard a little bit of the old Tyler in his voice, all snarky and full of innuendo.

She pulled back immediately and smacked him. He winced slightly. "Only because you're so pathetic," she retorted, but her smile made it clear she was joking. "Every time I turn around, you have this kicked puppy face. I only hug you out of the goodness of my heart."

"Is that so?" he replied, raising his eyebrow. "Well, maybe I only look so pathetic all the time because I know you'll have to hug me, Forbes. Ever think of that?"

"Are you implying that you're snaking unwarranted hugs from me?" Caroline demanded. "Selfish jerk."

He shrugged and smirked again. She stuck her tongue out. Too late, she noticed how close they were – their chests were inches apart, and his head was tilted towards hers. Her smile faltered as she took in their proximity, and she knew she had to run.

Tyler blinked at her in surprise when she really did run, turning into a blonde streak as she raced to the top of a nearby embankment. Peeking out from behind a tree, she grinned down at him. He raised his eyebrow, smirking up at her.

"Bet you can't catch me," she taunted him. Then she took off running at full speed again.

She could hear him running after her, close on her heels, kicking up leaves and cracking twigs under his shoes as he chased her through the trees and deeper into the forest.

* * *

><p>Imogene groaned as she skulked around the tiny, dusty apartment. It felt like no one had been home in days, and it smelled like all kinds of bad things. Bored, she pulled a book from a shelf, frowned at the Latin words embossed on the leather cover, and then tossed it over her shoulder.<p>

Marcus cleared his throat behind her, and she shot him a glare. "I'll throw what I want to throw," she informed him.

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head, returning to his search of the apartment. It was just Marcus and her in the place, investigating. Earlier that day, she'd picked up on a strange mixture of scents in the woods – sickly sweet vampire stench, heady werewolf musk, and old musty tombs. It was a stench she'd come to associate with Nicklaus, reminding her of the way the witch's house had smelled. Naturally, Imogene had alerted Sybil, and then followed the trail back to this apartment, Marcus in tow.

They'd been there for an hour now, and Imogene was both bored and impatient. The sun had set already, and she'd turned on a lamp or two to illuminate the space. Sybil was supposed to be there by now, but she had yet to show up.

Marcus whistled. Imogene frowned at him, finding her brother rifling through a chest in the corner. He looked at her, holding up a crossbow he'd uncovered from the depths of the trunk.

Imogene snorted. "Seriously?" she asked. "Who the hell lives here? I mean, does this place scream werepire lair to you?"

Marcus shook his head. She sighed harshly and pulled her smokes out of her coat. Her brother looked on disapprovingly as she lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. She ignored him.

The door to the apartment opened then, and Sybil flew over the threshold. Imogene knew immediately that something was up. The older wolf's hair was loose and mussed, and her green eyes were narrowed in annoyance. "Where the hell have you been?" Imogene asked bluntly.

Sybil gave her a dark look. "Following the puppy."

Imogene frowned at her, and then exchanged a bemused look with Marcus. "I thought he told you to go to hell," she pointed out.

"Only because of that _vampire_," Sybil spat. "If I could just get rid of her…"

"Get rid of her?" Imogene interrupted. "Yeah, sure, kill the puppy's little vampy pal. See how well that goes over. Sure he'll be dying to join up then."

Sybil glowered at her, and Imogene knew instantly that she was treading on her patience. "Sorry," she grumbled. "Is that where you were all last night too? Stalking the puppy?"

"Yes."

"Ah," Imogene murmured, taking a drag on her cigarette. "Well, I tracked Nicklaus's scent here, so…"

"He has not been in here in a long time," Sybil cut her off. "The scent is stale."

"Right," Imogene agreed, annoyed. "I was going to say that. Look what Marcus found, though."

Sybil looked over at the other werewolf, who had been silent during their entire exchange. He waved the crossbow at her, and then gestured at the chest he'd taken it from. Sybil frowned and crossed the room, leaning over to look inside the chest. Imogene watched in amazement as Sybil pulled arrows, machetes, and even guns from inside the trunk. Next, Sybil took out bottles filled with an amber liquid that reeked heavily of vervain, the vampire repellant. Imogene shook her head, her mouth hanging open.

"Hunter," Sybil murmured. "This is a hunter's house. That is the human I smell."

"Well, what was Nicklaus doing here then?" Imogene asked.

"Probably killing him," Sybil retorted, glancing about the room. "But why would he want this hunter dead? That is the real question."

Imogene shrugged and then crossed to the island that separated the kitchenette from the rest of the main living area. She began rifling through the mail still on the countertop, her cigarette dangling from her fingers. "Alaric Saltzman," she read aloud, snorting. "Who the fuck names their kid Alaric? Poor bastard."

"Who names their kid Imogene?" Sybil returned in amusement, and Imogene shot her a glare over her shoulder before returning to the mail.

She could hear Sybil's soft footsteps padding along behind her as she too began to search the apartment for any clues about Nicklaus or the mysterious Alaric Saltzman. "What was the puppy up to?" she asked conversationally. "Seeing as you were stalking him and all."

Sybil made a low, irritated growl deep in her throat. "He was with his friends mostly."

"Vampy friends?"

The silence Imogene received as an answer confirmed her suspicion. Imogene sucked her cigarette down to the filter and then put it out on Alaric's mail. She wasted no time in lighting a second. "You know," Imogene went on, inhaling a fresh cloud of smoke. "Maybe if the puppy likes her so much, she ain't half bad."

Sybil snorted.

"Just saying, maybe you don't have to kill her. You know… yet."

"It'll be a bit too late for that," Sybil muttered.

Imogene frowned, and turned around to look at her pack leader. "What's that mean?" she asked, taking another drag on her cigarette. "What did you do? Did you kill the vampire chick already?"

Sybil shrugged. "I gave it my best attempt."

Imogene laughed out loud. "You mean, you failed?"

Sybil glared at her, but Imogene couldn't keep in her laughter. "_You_ got beat by an ordinary, run of the mill vamp? What, you slowing down in your old age?"

"I think it would be in your best interests to find a more respectful way of speaking to me," Sybil retorted in a low, dangerous voice. As much as Imogene hated it, a prickle of fear went down her spine, and she felt an instant need to obey.

"Sorry," she sighed, still managing to sound petulant. "But seriously… how did you manage to _not_ kill her?"

"The puppy was there," Sybil muttered. "He wouldn't get out of my way."

Imogene snorted. "So?"

"So I didn't want to hurt him."

"You didn't want to… wow. Well, that's very maternal of you."

Sybil cocked a dangerous eyebrow at Imogene, and once again, the young werewolf knew she was treading on thin ice. It happened every thirty seconds, really. They both ought to be used to it by now. Her brother was giving her a warning look too, but Imogene pretended not to see it. "Let me get this straight," she said. "You tried to kill the vampire, you failed to kill the vampire, and the puppy was there so now he _knows_ you tried to kill the vampire. And you thought this was going to get him to join the pack?"

"Stop talking," Sybil ordered, turning her back on the younger wolf.

"I'm just saying, I think there were probably better ways of handling that."

Sybil stomped over to Imogene and pulled her cigarette out of her mouth. "Hey!" Imogene protested as Sybil stubbed it out on the hardwood floor.

"You'll turn your lungs black," Sybil announced.

"Will not," Imogene retorted. "Werewolf. Super healing powers."

Sybil rounded on her and Imogene shrank back against the counter, swallowing so hard she practically lost her tongue. She'd pushed the other woman too far. The gold glow in the other wolf's eyes sent shivers down Imogene's spine. "Is this a democracy?" Sybil growled.

Imogene shook her head.

"Do you and Marcus have any say whatsoever in what we do, where we go, or how we induct new members into our pack?"

Again, Imogene shook her head.

"I am Alpha," Sybil snarled. "And I won't be challenged again."

Imogene nodded. Sybil turned on her and headed back towards the bookshelf. She glanced at her brother, and Marcus shook his head admonishingly at her. He didn't need to speak for her to get his meaning; _told you so_…

"I still think there were better ways of handling that," Imogene grumbled under her breath.

It was a mistake, but she couldn't help herself. Sybil rounded on her again, yellow eyes flashing, and Imogene knew she'd have been in serious trouble if the door hadn't swung open just then.

The man who swaggered into the apartment was in his late twenties, early thirties, and Imogene could tell from his scent that he'd been drinking. He had an armload of mail, and he stopped short in the doorway to blink at them. Imogene was surprised when he sighed theatrically, shut the door behind him and dropped the mail on the kitchen counter. "Great," he drawled. "Why is it always _my_ apartment?"

Imogene glanced at Sybil, who approached the man slowly. She quickly ducked away from the island as Sybil walked up to it. "You are Mr. Saltzman?" she asked.

The man with the light brown hair and bleary blue eyes snorted. "Yeah. What are you and what do you want?"

"You have been drinking," Sybil observed.

Alaric shrugged. "What do you care, strange woman who broke into my apartment?"

"Your house smells odd," Sybil went on, and Imogene stared at her, wide-eyed, trying to figure out why she was being so blunt with him. Marcus looked confused too, and stepped up beside his sister to watch.

"Never was big on housekeeping," the man shrugged. "Look, I'm here to pack a few things up and move into my new place, so make it quick. Are you here to kill me, interrogate me, or steal my apartment to use as your evil lair?"

Sybil studied him a moment, her finger on her chin. When she did that, Imogene couldn't help but think she looked exactly like the sort of person who might need an evil lair. "Interrogate, I suppose," she finally spoke. "Your house smells like someone I know."

He snorted again. "Well, all kinds of things have been moving in and out of here lately, so that doesn't really surprise me. What are you? Vampire? Werewolf?"

"Werewolf," Sybil replied. "What are you?"

"Human."

"Obviously. Care to explain the vampire hunting paraphernalia?"

"Not really, no."

Sybil shrugged. "I suppose your hobbies really are of no interest to me," she allowed, not pressing the subject. Imogene frowned at her brother, who shrugged too. "A man has been here. He is seeking something dangerous, and I don't want him to have it. Can you tell me why he was here or where he has gone?"

Alaric leaned against the kitchen counter and folded his arms over his chest, glaring at Sybil. "Look, lady," he said. "I don't even know who you are."

"My name is Sybil," she returned easily, which caused Imogene to gape at her brother again.

Alaric raised an eyebrow. "Yeah," he grunted. "Kind of figured you would say that."

Sybil frowned at him. "You know me?"

He leaned forward slightly and sneered. "Does the name Tyler Lockwood mean anything to you?"

Sybil moved so quickly, Imogene didn't even see her until she was in the kitchen and in front of Alaric, her hands around his throat. The man was bent over the kitchen island, choking as she pinned him there. "Holy hell!" Imogene exclaimed, running back to the island. "What are you doing?"

"Interrogating," Sybil returned mildly. "You are a friend to this Tyler Lockwood?"

"Yeah," Alaric rasped out. "And from what I hear, he's not interested in your little pack, so… what are you still doing here?"

"Why does your apartment _reek_ of Nicklaus?" Sybil demanded, squeezing tighter. Alaric gasped against the pressure on his throat.

"You're gonna kill him," Imogene pointed out, but Sybil ignored her.

"_Answer me!_" she growled at the man struggling in her grasp, her deep voice echoing throughout the apartment.

"He possessed my body and took over my house!" Alaric choked. "Trust me, I didn't want him here!"

Sybil let go of his throat, and tossed him over the kitchen island. Imogene jumped out the way and the man landed at her feet. He was gasping for breath, and as she watched, he slowly sat up, glaring at all of them.

"Where is Nicklaus now?" Sybil asked, ironically now the very picture of calm, despite the ridiculous scene she'd put on only a few moments before.

"I have no idea," Alaric retorted, stumbling to his feet. Imogene stared at him as he tottered back a few steps and then caught the back of his living room sofa for balance. "We didn't exactly keep in touch after he moved out of my body."

"Why did he choose to possess _you_?" Sybil pressed.

"My good looks," Alaric snapped, rubbing his throat.

Sybil simmered and her eyes turned gold as she stalked out from behind the kitchen island. Imogene exchanged a panicked look with Marcus, who swallowed so hard his Adam's apple bobbed. "Sybil…" Imogene murmured hesitantly, but the wolf woman paid her no mind.

"He has an agenda in coming here," Sybil snarled at the vampire hunter. "And he would choose to possess someone who can help him pursue it. Why _you_?"

Alaric lifted his chin and glared at her. He didn't say a word. Imogene looked from him to Sybil, not sure what to do. "Do you know the doppelganger?" Sybil asked.

The flicker of recognition in Alaric's eyes gave him away. "Ah," Sybil murmured. "You do. And you know why he wants her?"

"I'm a little confused," Alaric said.

Imogene blinked at that and looked at Marcus again. Marcus frowned. Sybil tilted her head to the side and studied him. "Why?"

"What exactly is _your_ agenda?" he asked. "You come storming into my apartment and start tossing me around, demanding information on Klaus, and I can't figure out why. Do you want to help him? Or do you want to kill him?"

Sybil stared at him, not answering his questions. Alaric raised an eyebrow. "Look, I'm not sure what you are or what you want, but this is crazy," he informed her. "If you…"

"I want Nicklaus dead," Sybil murmured, cutting him off.

"Well, so do I," Alaric replied. "So can you quit beating me?"

Imogene stared at Sybil, not sure what she was going to do. She was still studying the man in front of her. "Klaus wants the doppelganger," she told him. "Do you know what I'm speaking of?" He nodded in response. "I don't want him to have her," Sybil went on. "I don't want him to break the curse."

"Well, it's too late for that," Alaric informed her. "Curse is broken."

Imogene watched Sybil's eyes flash gold. "Impossible."

"Nope. Happened. Sucked."

"The doppelganger cannot survive the sacrifice," Sybil snapped. "I've seen her; I know she is alive and she is human – if the doppelganger lives, then…"

"Elena."

Imogene started at her brother's raspy voice, sounding out unexpectedly from the other side of the room. Sybil turned to look at him too, and Marcus lifted his head to meet her eyes. "Her name is Elena," he whispered hoarsely, before dropping his eyes again and studying his shoes. Imogene cocked her eyebrow, staring at her brother in shock.

"Fine, then," Sybil said tightly, and Imogene frowned harder. Marcus got away with everything. "Elena. If Elena lives, Klaus cannot have broken the curse."

Alaric shrugged. "A witch did a spell. She exchanged Elena's life for her father's. Klaus sacrificed Elena. Elena died, and then Elena came back to life. Her dad died right after that. The end."

Silence followed his explanation. Sybil stared at Alaric and Imogene stared at Sybil, watching her jaw tighten and her eyes struggle to stay green. After many long, still moments, Sybil spoke, her voice too low and too calm. "Why would the witch do that?"

"Do what?" Alaric retorted, folding his arms over his chest. "Cast the spell?"

"Let Nicklaus break the curse."

"We were told it was the only way to kill him," Alaric replied. "His brother Elijah said he'd be weakened right after the curse was broken, and that we could only kill him then."

Sybil took a step back. "Elijah told you this."

Alaric nodded. "And then he was supposed to kill Klaus."

"Did he?"

Alaric shook his head. "No. Apparently Klaus started monologue-ing about how he was the only one who could help Elijah find the rest of their family and blah, blah, blah. Elijah wimped out; they both bailed. A week later, they were both gone and no one's heard from them since."

More silence followed this explanation too. Sybil stood still in the center of the room, staring at a spot on the wall behind Alaric's head. Imogene looked from her, to Marcus, to Alaric, and then back to Sybil again. "How do we know you're telling the truth?" Imogene asked after a while, when it became apparent that Sybil had nothing further to say.

He waved his hand at her dismissively. "Guess you don't. But I know seven other people who will give you the same story, if you want to check my facts."

Sybil still said nothing, and Imogene shifted uncomfortably by the kitchen island. Her brother took a hesitant step towards the elder werewolf. "Hey," Alaric said awkwardly. "Look, I want this guy dead, and the people I know are trying to find him. We're all on the same side here, so… well… why don't I extend you the proverbial olive branch?"

Imogene stared at him, shocked that he would suggest such a thing. Sybil tore her eyes from the wall and looked at Alaric too. She was frowning. "You would work with me?" she asked. "You would be willing to do that?"

Alaric shrugged. "What the hell? I work with lots of people I don't really like."

Sybil raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer to Alaric. A small smile ghosted on her lips. "Join forces?" she inquired.

He shrugged again. "Something like that."

"Hmm," she murmured, tilting her head again. "Perhaps we could do that."

Imogene gawked at Sybil, and then at Marcus. Her brother smiled slightly, like he thought everyone working together was a great idea. Imogene didn't dislike the idea, exactly; she simply couldn't believe the stranger had suggested it, and she definitely couldn't believe Sybil was going to go along with it.

"On second thought," Sybil said suddenly, tilting her head in the other direction. "I don't think I want any more people knowing I am here."

There was blurring of black clothes and brown hair. Sybil's hands caught Alaric's head. A loud _crack_ echoed throughout the apartment. Alaric slumped to the ground, his neck broken at an odd angle.

Imogene couldn't stifle her horrified gasp. "What the hell was that?" she exploded.

Sybil shrugged. Marcus looked as horrified at Imogene felt. He stared in shock at the dead body on the floor, making his way to the other man's side and kneeling on the floor. His fingers found Alaric's pulse point. "He's dead," Marcus rasped.

"Of course he is," Sybil replied, her voice too calm for comfort. "I snapped his neck."

"Well, what in the Sam Hill did you go and do that for?" Imogene exclaimed. "You freaking killed him! Why? What was the point?"

A low growl escaped Sybil's throat as she rounded on the other werewolf. "Are you challenging me, Imogene? _Again_?"

Imogene swallowed, hard. She shook her head.

"Good," Sybil practically purred. "It is time to go."

With that, Sybil turned her back on them both and marched out of the apartment. Imogene gaped after her. Her brother rose off his knees and came to stand at her side. She exchanged a look with Marcus, whose brow was creased with worry.

"She's off the motherfucking rails," Imogene announced. Marcus nodded in agreement. Sighing, Imogene followed Sybil into the hall, her brother close behind her.

They left Alaric Saltzman lying dead on his apartment floor.


	9. Bang Your Head Wake the Dead

On the Origin of Species

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I am not associated with anything _Vampire Diaries_, and I make no profit off this fan fiction. Also, I stole the title from Charles Darwin. Don't sue, please… I've got nothing but some pocket change and a car that won't start.

Summary: After Elijah's betrayal, another Original comes to Mystic Falls to kill the hybrid, and discovers that history is about to repeat itself. Set post season 2 finale. Forwood first and foremost, but I love all the other characters and their relationships too much not to play with those too… and those could end up going anywhere.

AN: Big thank yous to puppyluv1031, iluvreading, Nova802, Amanda, twotoe, voz76, potterhead, SusanXG, bianca08, AllCreator, batgirl2992, streetlove954, randomhoosp123 and reader for all the lovely reviews!

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><p>Chapter 8: Bang Your Head; Wake the Dead<p>

Being murdered sucked.

Alaric was slowly regaining consciousness, but everything hurt and he could barely move. His neck didn't just ache; it burned. The bones had healed, but the pain hadn't gone away yet. Slowly, Alaric sat up, blinking his heavy eyelids and rubbing his neck. His vision was blurry and it took several seconds before he could focus on his surroundings.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he was still in his apartment and he was alone. All three werewolves were gone. Alaric climbed precariously to his feet, and slumped against the kitchen island. "Ow," he grunted. His entire body ached. "Damn it. Stupid… were-bitch."

Every time that ring brought him back to life, part of him wished he was still dead. He felt totally hung-over. Grimacing, Alaric dug his cell phone out of his jeans and thumbed through his contacts list before finally dialing Jeremy's number.

"Hey, Ric, what's up?" Jeremy answered after a few rings.

"Tell me you're at the house," Alaric returned through gritted teeth. He stood up all the way, ignoring the pain in his neck.

"Uh… I'm at the house?" Jeremy replied, sounding confused.

"Call everyone up and tell them to meet us there," he ordered. "I'll be back at the house in twenty minutes."

"Whoa, wait up. What happened?"

"Well, let's see," Alaric retorted. "I'm at my apartment, I just had a visitor, and she was a crazy bitch who tried to kill me. We've got a serious problem on our hands."

"Someone tried to kill you?"

Jeremy sounded both shocked and concerned. Alaric quickly tried to make the situation seem less than it was. "Yeah, but I'm fine. Had my ring. I'll be at the house in twenty. Tell you more when I get there."

It sounded like Jeremy was on the verge of asking another question, but Alaric hung up before he got the chance. Taking a deep breath, he slumped on the island again, trying to get his legs working. One thing was for sure; whoever this Sybil chick was, she was not an ally. He was officially adding the werewolf to the long list of things they needed to kill. If Elena hadn't returned John Gilbert's ring to him the night before, he'd be dead right now.

He really needed to thank that girl. Buy her something huge – whatever she wanted, as long as it was really big and super expensive. Jewelry. Hell, a plasma screen TV.

With that thought in mind, Alaric forced himself back up on his legs and walked an unsteady line out of his apartment.

* * *

><p>It was already dark when Tyler followed Caroline out of the woods, tired and kind of hungry from all the running around and bunny killing. She'd eaten plenty, but the blood of furry, innocent animals wasn't exactly his kind of diet. Caroline bounded happily towards his truck, and Tyler jogged after her, suddenly feeling nervous, as though something was watching him.<p>

He didn't smell anything odd, nor did he hear anything suspicious. The woods and the street where he'd parked the truck were eerily lonesome, but he didn't see anything that worried him. It was more the memory of last night that had his nerves tingling. The wolf had attacked them after dark, but also right in front of the Grille, where anyone could have been walking by. This was the woods, and there was no one around for miles, and if Sybil wanted Caroline dead, this would be an ideal spot for an attack.

Tyler breathed in relief as he and Caroline climbed into the truck and shut their doors without incident. He couldn't help how he felt; every time he turned around, he expected to see that enormous, snarling black wolf charging straight for Caroline. He'd spent the entire day with her simply because he was under the impression that as long as he was with Caroline, Sybil would stay away.

He really hoped he was right about that.

As he steered the truck down the road, Tyler's phone buzzed. Caroline sighed harshly, snatching up his phone and squinting at the display screen. "Great," she announced, sounding annoyed. "It's Jeremy. I wonder what sort of emergency is going down this time." Then she answered the call with an irritated, "What do you want?"

"Caroline?" His enhanced werewolf hearing picked up Jeremy's voice over the speaker. "Why are you answering Tyler's phone?"

"Because he's driving," she chirped. "Seriously, what do you want?"

"Ric just called and said everyone needs to meet at my place."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know… something about somebody trying to kill him?"

"What?" Caroline asked again, but this time it came out in a high-pitched shriek. "Is he all right?"

"He said he had his ring, so… I don't really know. Are you coming over or not?"

Caroline sighed. "Sure. We'll be there." Then she hung up the phone and hissed in exasperation. "Great. What a time for Bonnie and Elena to be out of town."

"Did Ric not say what tried to kill him?" Tyler wanted to know.

She shook her head. "Apparently not."

Tyler had a serious suspicion about what it was that had come after his history teacher, and he was pretty sure it was the same thing that had attacked Caroline. Sybil wasn't going anywhere, he realized, and she was hell bent on fucking up his life. What he didn't understand was why. It had to be more than him being a lost little werewolf puppy who she'd decided needed a pack and a protector. Jules had done some questionable things to try and get him on her side, but this was different somehow. For one thing, Jules had been Mason's friend. She'd had a reason to sympathize with him. Sybil was a stranger, and Tyler didn't trust her motives.

He steered his truck back towards town and then in the direction of the Gilbert house. Soon enough, he and Caroline were hopping out of the truck cab and climbing onto the front porch.

Jeremy answered the door. "Hey, guys. Ric's here already."

They followed him back into the kitchen, where Alaric and Anna were waiting for them. "Is Damon coming?" Caroline wanted to know.

"Damon went to Alabama," Alaric replied. Caroline immediately frowned.

"After what he pulled with Elena…?"

"Bonnie's with her; everyone will be fine," Alaric cut her off. "Besides, he didn't really mean any of that. He's just… having a hard time adjusting or whatever."

The history teacher looked slightly embarrassed about defending Damon the psycho vampire, and Tyler didn't blame him. Supporting Damon in any way felt like an odd, slightly suicidal thing to do. Anyway, the guy was a dick.

Jeremy cleared his throat, taking charge. "So… who tried to kill you, Ric?"

"Tyler's new friend," Alaric replied. "Sybil."

"She's not my friend," Tyler bit back defensively.

"She came after you too?" Caroline exclaimed.

Alaric frowned. "What do you mean too?"

Silence descended on the kitchen as Caroline awkwardly dropped her eyes to the linoleum and shifted from one foot to the other. Everyone stared at her, Tyler included, waiting for her to say something. "Uh…"

"Last night, a wolf attacked Caroline," Tyler announced. "Right in front of the Grille."

"Wait, what?" Jeremy asked. "A _wolf_? But the full moon…"

"Is weeks away, I know," Tyler interrupted. "I think she can shift at will."

"By she, he means Sybil," Caroline spoke up, clarifying his statement even though nobody there had needed an explanation.

"Did it bite you?" Anna asked hesitantly.

Caroline shook her head. "No, Tyler chased her off before she could… I mean, she was totally going to, but… I don't know."

"_Tyler_ chased her off?" Alaric repeated incredulously. Tyler glared at him as the other man snorted. "What happened to her being some sort of big, bad, Original werewolf?"

"I got in the way," Tyler said between clenched teeth. "I don't think she wanted to hurt me."

Alaric snorted. "Well, then you're the only one."

"I know," Tyler snapped. "We've got to get rid of her."

"Was she alone?" Jeremy asked Alaric. "When she came to your place…?"

"No," Alaric shook his head. "There were two other people – a guy and a girl. They didn't say much – honestly, I think they were a little scared of her."

"The girl," Tyler said. "Was she blonde? Tall? Kind of looked like… I don't know. A homeless porn star?"

Alaric blinked at his colorful description. "Homeless porn star… yeah, you know what? That's actually _exactly_ what she looked like."

"That was the wolf I saw in the square," Tyler concluded. "Did you get her name?"

"Nope."

He felt like a deflated balloon. The other wolf was working for Sybil – he'd known that from the beginning – but when she'd brushed past him in the square, he'd had this odd feeling of _kinship_ with her. It wasn't at all like the distrust and dislike that immediately filled him when he caught Sybil's scent. Not that he trusted the other wolf, either – he didn't – but if she'd been more afraid of Sybil than loyal, maybe…

"She said she wants Klaus dead," Alaric said, pulling Tyler out of his thoughts. "And apparently she'd been sniffing around Elena without anyone noticing, because she knew she was alive and human. When I told her that the curse had already been broken, she was less than pleased."

"Is that when she killed you?" Jeremy asked dryly.

Alaric snorted. "Not exactly. I, like an optimistic idiot, offered to make peace because knowing one more person who wants Klaus dead didn't seem like such a bad thing. She almost sounded like she wanted to join forces too… and _that's_ when she killed me. I'm sure she and her minions laughed maniacally all the way back to their hideout."

"Do you think the other wolves were Originals too?"

"No," Tyler said quickly. "At least, not the chick. She didn't smell like Sybil at all."

Everyone stared at him, and he shuffled awkwardly, suddenly embarrassed. "Well, she didn't!" he snapped.

He hated being such a dog. Literally, half the things that came out of his mouth sounded like things dogs would say if they could talk. Everyone else seemed to think so too, and they were getting a real good laugh out of it.

Assholes.

He turned to look at Anna, who had remained mostly silent the entire time they'd been talking. "You sure you don't know anything about killing werewolf Originals?" he asked. "Maybe there's some kind of dagger or plant or…"

"Sorry," Anna said, crumpling her nose. "I've got nothing."

Again, there was that deflated balloon feeling. "Well, great," Alaric muttered, running his hand over his face. "I wouldn't even know where to begin researching her."

"I still have my uncle's journals," Jeremy pointed out. "You've got all Isobel's stuff down at Duke. Bonnie's got a zillion Grimoires. I'm sure we can find _something_."

Tyler nodded absently as Jeremy talked, not buying the optimism for a moment. He was actually very sure they were _not_ going to find a way to kill Sybil, because that was honestly just the way his life worked. Sybil was going to fuck with him for all of eternity – because apparently, she really did have all of eternity – and the people he cared about, as well as the people he put up with for the sake of others, were going to suffer for it.

What the hell was her problem, anyway? Why was she so obsessed with _him_?

They didn't stay much longer after that. Alaric and Jeremy talked research, Caroline said they should call Bonnie or Elena and got shot down, and Tyler and Anna stood around without saying a whole lot, both feeling like they were on the outside looking in.

He kind of felt bad for the zombie chick. She was all freaked out – because, you know, _zombie_ – not to mention she looked really lost and alone. He sort of got where she was coming from.

After agreeing to massive amounts of research that Tyler really didn't want to do – seriously, he just wanted to kill the werewolf and be done with it – he and Caroline left the Gilbert house. They got in his truck and Tyler drove her home. When he stopped in the driveway, he noticed her mother's police cruiser was there. Caroline immediately froze beside him.

He stared at her, not saying a word. Caroline chewed her lip nervously, her eyes fixed on the back bumper of the police car.

"She's probably over it by now," he said.

Caroline snorted.

"Well… I mean… you could come back to my place…"

Except, she really couldn't, he thought. He could only have Caroline Forbes sleeping in his bed for so long before he'd stop behaving himself.

"No," she sighed. "I'm going in."

She didn't move. Tyler stared at her, knowing he should offer some sort of comfort or reassurance, but he really didn't know what to say. "You know, she was probably just a little freaked out," Tyler offered. "She's had time to… absorb, so…"

He trailed off awkwardly. Caroline raised a skeptical eyebrow, staring at the dashboard. "Do you want me to come in with you?" he asked.

She laughed out loud. "What are you, my dad?"

He shuddered, because that was wrong on so many levels. "Definitely not."

Caroline's smile faded as she eyed the police cruiser. "All the lights are out," she observed. Her voice took on a hopeful tone. "Maybe she's asleep."

"Maybe," he agreed.

There was a long silence. Then Caroline took a deep breath and straightened her spine. "Well," she announced. "It's not going to do me any good hiding, so… here I go."

Tyler nodded, watching her swing open the passenger side door and hop down to the driveway. "Thanks, Tyler," she called, before slamming the door and heading for her house.

He watched her go inside, and then sat a moment too long in the driveway, staring at her house and clenching the steering wheel too tight. Eventually, he shifted out of park, backed out of the drive, and took off way too fast down her street.

The past few days had been great, he admitted. He loved being around her, but the last few days had also been hard. All he could think about was doing things with her that he should under no circumstances be doing.

Maybe he ought to distance himself from Caroline Forbes. In fact, that was exactly what he should do – except there was one major problem with that plan.

He didn't think he could do it.

* * *

><p>Damon had parked the Camaro in the space beside the Prius, smirking at the frown on the witch's face. After a long day of driving, the three of them had reached Mobile. It was well after dark, and Bonnie had driven to a motel straight away. Personally, Damon didn't think the motel was necessary, but the witch hadn't wanted to upset her cousin by bursting into her house in the middle of the night.<p>

Not that she'd told him any of that. No one had told him anything. He'd followed Bonnie's car into the motel parking lot, and had to compel the desk attendant to give him a room next to the one Elena and Bonnie had pre-booked. Now he was standing in front of Bonnie and Elena's motel room door, antagonizing them by refusing to let them pass, and kind of hating himself for being such a jerk, yet not knowing how to stop.

"Why are you here?" Elena demanded immediately, her eyes flashing.

Damon shrugged and smirked, even though the intensity of her glower made him feel small and stupid. "Did you _really_ think I was going to let you two drive all the way down to Alabama and meet with a witch who used to work for _Katherine_ all by yourselves?"

"Actually, we did," Bonnie spoke up, her voice cold and detached. "You've been so busy running around town, angering the few people who can stand being around you, and drinking yourself into oblivion, we rather thought you wouldn't even notice we were gone."

Clearly, he was getting no sympathy from the judgy witch. "Sorry to disappoint you," he drawled.

"Look, I'm tired," Elena spoke up. She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Please get out of my way, Damon."

He stared at her, willing her to look up at him. It was infuriating that she wouldn't make eye contact with him, and so he didn't move and he didn't drop his gaze. If he stared long enough, she'd have to look.

Eventually, she did, and her big eyes were so full of exhaustion and contempt, that he found himself automatically stepping away from the door. Elena unlocked the room and stepped inside. Bonnie didn't follow her, and Damon flinched when the witch gently pulled the door shut and turned on him.

"Oh, no," he groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. "What have I done now?"

"Your behavior is, as usual, inexcusable," Bonnie returned. "I understand that Stefan's missing and it's upsetting you, but you will never lay your hands on Elena like that again."

"But what if she asks?" he retorted playfully, wagging his eyebrows.

Bonnie didn't look impressed. "I think you and I both know she won't."

Damon glared at her. He hated her in that moment. Lately, he felt like an out-of-control baby vampire, or a hormonal teenager. His moods fluctuated between blind rage, bone-crushing depression, and drunkenness.

Not to mention the guilt. The ever-increasing, never-relenting, absolutely suffocating guilt. Damon's glower darkened and he took a threatening step forward. "Don't presume to tell me what I think or feel or know, witch."

"You're lashing out," Bonnie returned calmly. "If you lash out by hurting innocent people, I think we both know what I'll have to do to you. I won't enjoy it; we're allies now and have been for longer than I like to think about."

He was on her in seconds, pinning her to the wall of the motel and wrapping his hands around her throat. "Are you threatening me?"

"Let go," she told him. "Or tomorrow morning, the motel staff will have to clean vampire, extra-crispy off their sidewalk."

Damon dropped her, less because of the threat and more because of his own warring inner voices. Half the time they told him to kill, and the rest of the time they told him to stop. They couldn't make up their damn minds, and he wanted them to shut up, because he couldn't take one more second of his inner voices and their constant complaining.

"I don't know _exactly _why you're here," Bonnie said. "I want to say it's about watching out for Elena or finding Stefan. That's commendable, and I won't light you on fire for it. But if you step one foot out of line, Damon…"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first three hundred times," he grumbled. "You'll fry me. Got it."

"Don't forget it," Bonnie said sternly.

He watched the tiny young witch open the motel room door and step inside. People in his life tended to forgive him things too easily, to overlook his large missteps, to make excuses for him. Bonnie never did that, and it was weirdly reassuring that even though she knew he missed Stefan, she wasn't letting him get away with anything.

Neither would Elena this time, and he had to admit it shocked him. She always forgave him; that was the one thing he could always count on. Elena would forgive and eventually forget and treat him like she always did… but she'd held onto her anger about him forcing his blood on her, even through his wolf bite, and she'd yet to let go of the scene in her kitchen. Still, here he was in Alabama, watching out for both Elena and Bonnie and hoping to hear good news about Stefan, and it made him a little sick to his stomach.

Stefan should have let him burn up in the sun that day. Stefan should have never gone to Klaus, never made that deal, never tried to cure him. Stefan should be the one following Elena and Bonnie to Alabama. Stefan should be here, and Damon should be gone.

Feeling a hollowness that not even blood could fix, Damon stumbled off to his motel room, with vague intentions of emptying the min-bar.

* * *

><p>Caroline woke up extra early, even though it was Saturday, and blinked against the bright sunlight streaming into her bedroom. Slowly, she sat up in her bed and heaved a sigh. A feeling of dread had already formed in the pit of her stomach.<p>

She dressed slowly and meticulously, putting more time and attention into her hair than normal, trying something out she'd never really been all that good at; procrastination.

Eventually she ran out of things to pretend to do and crept out of her room and into the kitchen. She stopped short when she saw her mother there, sitting at the table with a steaming mug of coffee and her eyes fixed on the newspaper.

It was tempting to back on out again, but her mother's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Good morning, Caroline."

She swallowed and stepped all the way into the room. "Hey, Mom," she said, forcing cheer into her voice.

Her mother met her eyes and Caroline felt her fake smile wobble. "I didn't see you yesterday," Liz Forbes observed. It almost sounded like an accusation. Caroline did her best not to flinch.

"Uh, yeah… I was out… with some people…"

"Tyler Lockwood."

It wasn't a question. Caroline nodded, not meeting her mother's eyes. "You didn't come home the night before last," Liz went on.

"Sorry," Caroline whispered.

"No," Liz said softly, surprising her daughter. "I'm sorry."

For a moment, the two of them stared at one another, Caroline paralyzed by shock and Liz looking too upset to continue. Finally, the sheriff cleared her throat, and looked down at the table. "I was a little surprised, back in the alley," she admitted. "It's one thing to _know_ your daughter's a… a… and it's another thing to see it."

It sort of hurt that her mother still couldn't bring herself to call Caroline a vampire, but she let it slide. This was difficult for Liz, and Caroline knew she was trying.

"I know you didn't hurt that man," Liz went on. "I overreacted, and I'm sorry. Knowing you didn't come home until… I never want you to be afraid to come home, Caroline."

It was maybe the best thing her mother had ever said to her. Caroline felt the hurt and anxiety of the past day start to fade away, and a smile threatened the corners of her mouth. "I'm not," she said, although it wasn't entirely true. "I just… got nervous, I guess. I'm sorry, Mom."

Liz smiled at her. Caroline headed for the cereal cabinet and started getting some breakfast. "You, uh… still…?"

Her mother trailed off, looking unsure about asking the question. "Yep," Caroline replied brightly. "I mean, I need blood the most, but people food is good too… and it definitely helps with the urges and stuff, so…"

It was her turn to trail off when her mother looked down at the tabletop again. Liz Forbes was trying – no one could say that she wasn't – but hearing her daughter discuss her less than conventional diet was perhaps a bit too much, a bit too soon. Caroline tried to let it roll off her shoulders.

"So, what are your plans for today?" she asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Uh… there's a Booster Club picnic at the high school," Liz said. "They're raising funds for the senior trip. Actually, I'm kind of surprised you're not involved."

Caroline shrugged and smiled. "Not a senior."

Although, the real reason she was neglecting her Booster Club duties had a lot more to do with the constant never-ending drama that was her secret life. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd headed up a committee or organized an event. It had to have been the Decade dance, she decided, but even then, she hadn't been in charge.

"Well, I have to go run security," Liz went on. "Mayor Lockwood is making the usual donation, and from what I understand, she could still use a few more volunteers to run some of the stands…"

The suggestion was clear even without her mother spelling it out. Liz wanted her to go to this picnic and help out, the way she usually did. Caroline almost got upset, because the tiny, insecure part of her that didn't get along with her mother thought she was trying to change her, trying to force her back into that box she'd fit into so perfectly when she'd been human.

She didn't get upset though, because normal was kind of what she needed right now. Caroline smiled and nodded. "Sure, I'll come."

Her mother smiled back and Caroline took her cereal out the kitchen door. "Meet you there," she said. "I've got a few things to do first."

"That's fine," he mother agreed. "I'll see you there. Caroline?"

Caroline turned around and looked expectantly at her mother, the spoon for her cereal halfway to her mouth. Liz hesitated, looking sort of uncomfortable, but then her resolve strengthened and she lifted her chin. "I love you."

It hurt more than it helped, watching her mother struggle to say three words that were supposed to come easy between mothers and daughters. But Caroline knew her mother, and she knew expressing that little sentiment had always been a problem for her. The fact that she was so determined to say it now, when she knew Caroline needed to hear it, helped smooth over the scene in the alleyway probably more than Liz would ever know.

"I love you too," Caroline chirped, keeping it light, keeping it easy. Her mother smiled at her, and Caroline left the kitchen.

She shouldn't have put off coming home.

* * *

><p>Mobile, Alabama was a lot hotter than Mystic Falls, and Bonnie tugged on her shirt collar in an effort to cool herself as she surveyed the tiny house in front of her. It was white and styled after the antebellum architecture of the South, despite its small size. The house sat nearby a saltwater tributary, surrounded by marsh grasses.<p>

The skies overhead were clear blue, but the atmosphere was humid and hazy. As Bonnie approached the front door, feeling heavy under the heat, she almost turned around and ran back to her car. The only thing stopping her, she decided, were Elena and Damon following her onto the front porch.

When the door swung open to reveal Lucy Bennett on the other side, still wearing her pajamas, Bonnie gulped and forced out a smile. "Hi," she said. "Remember me?"

Lucy frowned momentarily, and then a slow, easy smile spread across her face. "Sure, cuz. How's it going, Bonnie?"

"Honestly?" Bonnie replied. "It could be better."

Soon, she found herself sitting at Lucy's kitchen table, Elena beside her and Damon lounging by the exit, watching her cousin absorb everything she'd just told her.

"Klaus broke the curse?" she asked, shaking her head.

Bonnie nodded.

"And it had nothing to do with the sun and the moon? It was all about unleashing his… his inner werewolf?"

Bonnie nodded again. "Yep."

"And now he's absconded with the other Salvatore," Lucy summed up. "And your magic's on the fritz because you performed a _resurrection spell_?"

"That's about it," Bonnie murmured, her voice small and apologetic.

"God, Bonnie," Lucy breathed, shaking her head again. "I know I told you to stay in the middle of it, but I didn't think you'd go that far. Resurrection spells are bad news."

"So I'm starting to realize," Bonnie returned.

"They've got major consequences," Lucy said. "I can't even tell you what all the consequences are because I've never met a witch crazy enough to perform the damn spell!"

Bonnie cringed. "I'm sorry to bother you. It's just…"

"Don't apologize," Lucy cut her off, scoffing. "It's cool that you're here. I want to help. I just also want you to realize the scale of what you've done."

"Trust me, I really think I do," Bonnie replied. "I brought Jeremy back, and the next thing I knew, he was being followed around by two zombie versions of his ex-girlfriends."

Lucy whistled. "Zombies? Ex-girlfriends? Peach, I think you officially stepped in it."

Bonnie winced.

"So what do you want me to do?" Lucy asked, patting her hand.

"I need to talk to Emily," Bonnie admitted. "She hasn't been communicating with me since I performed the resurrection spell. It sucks because I'm confused. I've lost all the power I borrowed from the dead witches, I've got zombies running around my town, and I have no idea how to stop Klaus or find Stefan."

Lucy nodded. "All right. A séance. I can do that. What else?"

"Do you know anything about resurrection spells?" Bonnie asked. "Because I'm not sure how much Emily's going to be willing to tell me."

"Not a lot," Lucy admitted. "Zombies I've never heard of… didn't think they existed, honestly. Ghosts, sure, but zombies…?"

Bonnie chewed the inside of her mouth. "What about your boyfriend?" Lucy asked. "Is he ok?"

"Well, he's alive," Bonnie pointed out.

"Right, but has the spell had consequences for _him_?"

"Other than the zombies being his exes?" Bonnie shrugged. "Not as far as I can tell. I think what's going on is that I've abused my powers, and the witches are angry. Therefore, they're punishing _me_. I don't think the consequences were ever intended for him."

"What could happen to my brother?" Elena asked suddenly, speaking for the first time since Bonnie had introduced her to Lucy. "If there's consequences for him too?"

She sounded frightened, and Bonnie immediately felt guilty. Sure, if she had never performed the spell, Elena would no longer have her brother period, but that didn't lessen the fact that if something was wrong with Jeremy, Bonnie had only herself to blame.

Lucy shrugged. "I can't really say. He might experience some sort of psychic phenomenon. He could be different."

Elena frowned. "He doesn't _seem _different…"

She was right. Jeremy seemed like the same old Jeremy, and Bonnie had been relieved to realize that. The last thing she could have stood, beyond his death of course, was Jeremy becoming someone else, because she was in love with him now.

That love was what had powered the spell in the first place.

"Let's just talk to Emily," Lucy decided. "Damon, can you leave?"

Bonnie blinked, and then turned to look at Damon. He frowned, clearly affronted. "What is it with you witches?" he demanded. "Every last one of you hates my guts."

Lucy smirked. "Sorry, but Emily was never your biggest fan. If she's already hesitant to communicate with us, your presence here could be a deal breaker."

Damon grumbled something unpleasant under his breath, but complied with Lucy's request and disappeared out the back door.

Once he was gone, Lucy began setting up the kitchen table. Bonnie watched as she laid out the candles, her anticipation making her sick to her stomach. Soon, the candles were lit, Lucy had seated herself at the table, and all three women were joining hands. "Don't break the circle," Lucy announced, slowly closing her eyes. "Break the circle, and we lose communication."

Bonnie nodded her agreement. Elena looked nervous, but closed her eyes the way Lucy had. Bonnie kept hers open, searching Lucy's face. The older woman began to chant in Latin, summoning the spirits and opening the road between worlds. A gust of wind whipped through the kitchen and circled the room, rattling the spoons hanging on a nearby rack, scattering napkins stacked by the stove, and blowing all three women's hair up into their faces.

"Emily," Lucy said in a deep voice. "Emily, your descendents wish to speak with you."

The wind blew harder, and the flames on the candles flared up too high. Bonnie heard Elena gasp and tightened her hand on hers. Lucy ducked her head, her shoulders starting to shake. "Lucy?" she asked hesitantly.

With a loud, pained gasp, Lucy's head snapped back and her eyes flew open, rolling into the back of her head. Elena jumped, and Bonnie squeezed both Elena and Lucy's hands, willing Lucy to be all right and Elena not to break the circle.

When Lucy lowered her head and looked Bonnie sternly in the eye, she knew immediately that she wasn't looking at Lucy anymore.

"Emily?" she asked.

"You called?" was the reply, cold and calm and low. The voice was not Lucy's and it sent shivers down Bonnie's spine.

She nodded. "I came to ask…"

"About your powers," Emily interrupted.

"Sort of," Bonnie agreed carefully. "I believe the witches from the old mansion took back their powers after I resurrected Jeremy Gilbert…"

"To punish you," Emily finished. "Yes. You abused their power."

Her voice was ice on glass. Bonnie swallowed. "So they took the power back."

Emily nodded Lucy's head.

"How am I supposed to kill Klaus?" she asked almost desperately.

Emily raised Lucy's eyebrow. "Perhaps you should have thought of that sooner."

"Please," Elena pleaded. "He's my brother, and she saved his life! She shouldn't be punished like this for doing something so _good_! If Klaus isn't stopped…"

"You'll never find your lover?" Emily asked coolly. "That is no concern of mine."

"Stefan was a friend to you," Elena begged.

"Katherine was a friend to me," Emily replied. "And I paid dearly for that friendship. Stefan was nobody."

Lucy's eyes began to flutter and Bonnie sensed Emily was leaving. "No!" she cried out. "Wait! Klaus has Stefan, and I can't find either of them! If he's not stopped, there's no telling what he might do! And Jeremy's not the only person I brought back that night…!"

"I know," Emily returned.

Bonnie stared at her helplessly. "Why won't you help me?"

For a long time, Lucy's glassy eyes bored into Bonnie's, and Emily said nothing. Then she ducked her head once, looking reluctant as she finally spoke. "The last descendent of a powerful, ancient magical line is in Klaus's employ. You cannot break through her barriers."

"Then how…?"

"He will come to you," Emily murmured. "There will be no need to find him; eventually, he will come to you."

What an awful thing to say, Bonnie concluded. It was absolutely no help whatsoever. There was no telling when Klaus would come to her, and there was no telling who he would hurt and what he would do in the meantime. She had to stop him _now_.

Emily wasn't finished yet. "When you brought back the boy, something followed him over," she breathed. "It's a common consequence of the spell you performed. You have disrupted the balance, and this is the answer to the chaos you've caused. Nature returned something good to you, but you must take the bad too."

"What are they?" Bonnie asked hoarsely.

"They have many names," Emily replied. "You'll find the Norse legend of the draug to be the most accurate."

"Draug?" Bonnie repeated, frowning. Emily nodded, clearly not intending to say anything more. Bonnie waited a moment, and then huffed in exasperation. "But why _them_? Out of all the things that could have followed him over, why my boyfriend's ex-girlfriends?"

There was a sly tilt to Lucy's eyebrows as Emily whispered, "Personal consequences."

Her eyelids were fluttering and Bonnie could feel her presence fading. "No! You didn't tell me enough!"

Lucy's shoulders shook, and Emily's energy continued to fade. "Wait!" Elena called out desperately. "What about Stefan?"

Lucy stopped shaking, and Emily turned hard eyes on Elena. Bonnie felt the energy of her ancestor return full force, but very briefly. "He's not the Stefan you knew before."

Then Lucy's head snapped backwards again, and the candles began to flicker. The wind picked up again, and Bonnie watched her cousin's eyelids flutter rapidly, her shoulders convulsing, as Emily returned to wherever she'd come from. Lucy let out a harsh, pained scream. Then the candles went out, the wind died, and Lucy slumped forward against the table.

Bonnie yanked her hands free and rushed to Lucy's side. "Lucy! Are you all right? Lucy!"

The back door swung open, banging into the kitchen wall, and Damon appeared on the other side of Bonnie's cousin. "What the hell happened?" he demanded.

Lucy sat up then, groaning slightly, and Bonnie heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Wow," Lucy said, rubbing her head. "That dead chick packs a punch."

"Are you ok?" Bonnie asked.

"Oh, I'm fine, cuz," she returned, waving Bonnie off. "I've had hangovers worse than this – trust me."

"Do you remember anything?"

"Unfortunately, everything," Lucy replied. "Sorry, Bonnie. Tough break."

"Seriously, someone tell me what the hell happened," Damon said.

"Later," Elena spoke up. "Bonnie, what are we going to do?"

Bonnie sighed heavily. "I wish I knew."

They spent only a little more time at Lucy's house, making sure the witch was all right and then filling Damon in on what Emily had to say. He was predictably pissed off and Lucy had to ask him to leave when he started breaking her dishes.

She honestly didn't understand what his problem was anymore. He'd always been impulsive and volatile – not to mention a huge jackass – but this was different. Without Stefan, he was quite literally a mess.

Soon, they left Lucy's place and Elena announced that she wanted to get back on the road and go home to Mystic Falls. Bonnie agreed without argument. After picking up gas and food, the two of them steered the Prius towards the Interstate, Damon's Camaro on their back bumper.

Seeing Lucy had provided her with brand new information, but Bonnie still felt like she needed answers. All she had now were new questions and something that felt like terror gnawing at her gut. When she considered Jeremy and Anna and Vicki, she wanted to throw up. When she thought about Klaus and Stefan, her head spun. Once upon a time, Bonnie would have given anything not to be a witch. She would have given anything to be normal. Now, all she could think about was how badly she wanted to have her extra powers back, and how badly she wanted to use them. She felt jittery, like a junkie craving his next high.

In that brief moment, Bonnie wondered if the witches had been right to take their power away.

* * *

><p>Sybil couldn't help but be irritated at her puppies. Ever since the previous night, they had skulked around camp, avoiding her eyes and trying not to engage in conversation. Not that Sybil was in much of a talking mood – she'd been far too busy plotting her next move to force a chat between herself and the other two wolves.<p>

She stepped out of her trailer to find Imogene smoking in the bed of her El Camino, and Marcus reading a tattered old book in their tent. Slowly, she shut the door, treading softly along the side of the trailer, and then stopping near the other two, leaning on the cold, metal vehicle with her arms folded. "You are angry with me," she observed.

Marcus said nothing, predictably. Imogene shrugged, blowing a smoke ring. "Why would we be angry?" she asked dryly. "It's not like you killed a dude or anything."

Sybil cocked an eyebrow, immediately turned off by the hypocrisy of another werewolf complaining about a lost life. There was a reason Imogene became a snarling rabid wolf once a month. "I warned you when Mary first summoned me," she returned. "This would be a messy campaign. People would die."

"You didn't say _you_ were going to kill them."

Her temper was rising, but centuries of practice kept it in check. "This is a tricky situation to be in," Sybil explained. "There is no certainty anymore. We could not trust the hunter."

Imogene snorted and stared at the sky. Marcus shrank back farther inside the tent. Sybil rolled her eyes heavenward and tilted her head against the trailer. "I did what I thought was best for us all," she informed them. "And I don't take much interest in whether or not you approve."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it," Imogene drawled. "You're Alpha. We're not. Dictatorship, not a democracy. Blah, blah, blah."

Sybil turned her back on the young woman and headed for her trailer again. "You know, I don't get it," Imogene spoke again, stopping Sybil in her tracks. "Marcus and I chain ourselves up every full moon so we don't go running around tearing people to bits, but you can just snap some poor guy's neck and expect us to be ok with it?"

"I don't expect you to be all right with anything," Sybil said calmly. "I expect you to hold your tongue and do what I say regardless."

"Awesome group dynamic we have here," Imogene retorted.

Sybil ignored her pouty comment and walked around the back of her trailer. This little excursion to Mystic Falls, VA had quickly turned into a catastrophe. If the hunter was telling the truth, then Nicklaus had already broken the curse and it was now going to be much harder to kill him. She needed information, from a source she could trust.

That source was long gone and no one knew to where. Sybil realized that if she wanted answers, she'd have to track down the source… and that meant she needed a witch.

As a new plan began to form in her mind, she made her way a few steps deeper into the forest. The wind shifted, blowing through her hair and back towards the camp. On the wind, she could smell the dirt and the damp of the woods, and the foul, rotten stench of decay.

She froze, frowning. It was stronger than it should be, and now that the wind had blown the stench into her nose, it was all she could smell. Suddenly uneasy – and it took a lot to make her uneasy – Sybil turned around and retraced her steps back to the camp.

Marcus had put his book aside and gotten out of his tent. Imogene was still sitting in the back of her car, but she looked alert and she had stopped smoking. "You smell that?" Imogene asked her. "What are we, sitting downwind from a mass grave?"

She didn't reply to the werewolf's questions, straining her ears instead to listen to the sounds of the woods. The usual chirping of birds and humming of insects was not there. Instead, there was uneasy silence. She frowned, listening harder. Soon, she heard it - the crackling leaves and splintering twigs under the roughly human weight of three bodies sprinting through the woods. The stench intensified and Sybil angled herself towards the sounds, waiting expectantly.

"What's going on?" Imogene asked, but Sybil said nothing.

The first one flew around the corner of the trailer in a blur and Sybil moved just as quick, stopping it in its tracks. Long blonde hair hit her in the face as she yanked the body backwards, and then she took the head in her hands and tore it away from the neck, hearing the satisfying rip of tendons and muscles, followed by the crack of bones.

She dropped the head of a twenty-something girl on the forest floor, and the body slumped down beside it. Imogene gave a gasp of surprise and even Marcus issued a yelp. Two more charged around the corner, and Sybil caught one of them the same way she caught the first, ripping its head from its shoulders and swiftly killing it. The last figure blurred towards the puppies, but both Imogene and Marcus reacted quickly, ducking and dodging out of the way as fast as possible, turning into blonde streaks as they headed for the trailer. The beast followed, but Sybil rushed in from the side, knocking it to the floor. The young man with shaggy brown hair hit the ground face first, but Sybil retained her balance, digging her heel into the man's spine and taking him by the hair. She decapitated him just like his companions.

Blood on her hands, Sybil whirled around to face the puppies. They were frozen by the trailer in horror, gaping at her with wide eyes. "What the _fuck_ was that?" Imogene exploded.

Sybil shrugged, surveying the damage. "Did those things just try to kill us?" Imogene wanted to know.

"I should think the answer to that is obvious," Sybil drawled.

"Why?" Marcus rasped.

She shrugged again. "They were hungry."

"What are they?" Imogene demanded.

"Dangerous, hungry, _unnatural_ creatures," Sybil murmured. "Their presence here can mean only one thing; there is a powerful witch in this town."

Both Imogene and Marcus were blinking at her in confusion, but she paid them no mind, too wrapped up in her latest revelation. They had a new agenda now; find the witch, and then kill every last one of the walking, undead creatures she had unleashed on this town.

* * *

><p>Tyler glared at the school in front of him, and all the busy people milling about the front of the building, setting up tables and tents. He wished with all his heart he had not agreed to be here today. When his mother had cornered him this morning outside his bedroom, going on and on about doing things as a family and putting on a good front for the Founders Council, he'd been so overcome by guilt – he'd left home for a month, after all, without telling his mother where he was going or how to reach him – that he'd caved under the pressure and agreed to help out with the stupid Booster Club picnic.<p>

Now he was stuck at the high school on a Saturday, surrounded by students from the senior class, grilling hotdogs behind a canvas tent and hating his life. Stupid school picnic. He had way more important shit to be dealing with at the moment. Like a psycho were-bitch that wanted to kill his best friend/pathetic never-going-to-happen crush, for example. Not to mention the impending zombie apocalypse. Or the crazy hybrid running around trying to destroy the world that had somehow become his problem – seriously, since when was he Buffy the Vampire Slayer? And then there were all his wolfy urges that made him want to punch people to death… or do seriously kinky things with certain vampire chicks who were so off limits…

A senior girl strode by then, and Tyler looked up from the grill to appreciate the swing of her long blonde hair and the curve of her rear in her too short cutoffs. Giving his head a shake, he tore his eyes away, realizing it wasn't _just_ vampire chicks he wanted to do kinky wolfy things with. Really, he could do kinky wolfy things with just about any attractive girl that walked by… he'd just prefer to do them with the girl he couldn't do them with. It made total sense. Because it sucked, and that's the way his life worked. His life sucked, all the time.

Suddenly, the stench of fresh weed hit him in the nostrils. "Your mom told me to take over the grill," a voice said from behind him. Tyler turned to see a shaggy haired senior standing at his shoulder. He had no idea what his name was, and honestly he didn't care. He just wanted to leave.

"Thanks," he said, handing over the tongs. Then he ran around to the front of the tent, not sure where he was going to go, but hell bent on going. He ran directly into his mother.

"Tyler," Carol Lockwood greeted him. "I had Luke relieve you from hot dog duty because the Mystic Grille delivery is here. They're donating food for the picnic. Can you help unload?"

He nodded. "Sure."

She smiled, laying her hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you came," she told him. "It's so nice to be doing these things as a family again. When you were gone, these events just weren't the same."

Tyler grimaced. "Way to lay on the guilt trip, Mom."

Carol smiled again and walked away. Tyler shook his head, still annoyed but feeling properly chastised, and headed for the truck with the Mystic Grille sign perched on the hood.

Too late, he realized it was Matt's truck. The other boy had been unloading boxes of food, but as Tyler drew near, Matt put the boxes on the ground and turned to yell at someone hidden behind the truck.

"I don't want your help, Caroline," he heard Matt snap. "Just stay away from me!"

"I'm only helping you because it's my _job_, Matt!" Caroline's voice sounded from the other side of the truck. "Look, I know you don't want to be together anymore, but that doesn't mean we can't be civil to each other!"

Tyler arrived on the scene, standing hesitantly behind his ex-friend as he deliberated on how to go about approaching the situation. Matt noticed him as soon as he reached the truck, however, and this time he rounded on him. "Great!" he snapped. "You too?"

"My mom told me to help you unload," Tyler shrugged. "Sorry, man. But, hey… if you want to unload by yourself…"

"I do, actually," Matt retorted. "Get the hell away from me, Tyler."

Tyler shrugged again. "Your time, your problem."

He made to leave, but Caroline spoke again. This time he could see her, lurking in a shadow beside the truck's back bumper. "Matt, this is getting ridiculous," she lamented. "We've been friends since we were small and…"

"And that still didn't stop you from trying to kill my sister," Matt interrupted harshly. "Save it, Caroline."

Tyler turned back around, catching Caroline's eye. She spared him a confused look before returning her attention to Matt. "What are you talking about?"

"Like you don't know," he scoffed. "She told me everything, Caroline. Oh, and thanks for giving me the heads up, by the way. It was really nice of you to tell me she was still alive."

His stomach plummeted at his friend's accusations, realizing he was right to be upset. He _knew_ they should have told Matt about Vicki. Caroline blinked, shaking her head. "Matt…"

"Don't bother."

"We wanted to tell you," Tyler spoke up. Matt glared at him over his shoulder.

"Really? Couldn't have wanted to tell me too much, seeing as you didn't." The other boy shrugged and returned to unloading boxes. "Doesn't matter. She told me you two tried to kill her – you and the rest of my so-called friends."

"Matt," Caroline whispered. "That's not fair. You don't know the whole story…"

"I know Vicki's story," Matt cut her off. "That's really all I need to know. So let's get something straight. I want you two and everyone else to stay away from me _and_ my sister. If you come anywhere near her, I'll out you to the Council. Last I checked, they hated vampires, and I bet they won't be too keen on werewolves either."

"So, that's it then?" Tyler snapped. "You don't care what happened or why, you don't care about me or Caroline… you're perfectly willing to tell the Council about us and watch them _kill_ us."

Matt glared at him. "After what you guys did to my sister, what am I supposed to do? Look, I don't _want_ to out you two, but I will. Just stay away from me and Vicki, and we won't have a problem."

"But Vicki isn't telling you everything!" Caroline exclaimed. "Look, I don't know what she said, but she isn't the same person anymore! She needs help! And we _didn't_ try to kill her, _she_ tried to kill _us_!"

"Whatever, Caroline," Matt shrugged. "Just stay away from us."

Tyler glared at his friend's back. "Fine," he said. "But when your sister takes a bite out of your arm, don't come running to me."

Then he turned his back on Matt and marched back the way he came. "Matt, please listen to me," he heard Caroline say. All he heard was a scoff from Matt before he got too far away to hear anything without expending some effort – and he had no interest in eavesdropping. He supposed whatever Caroline had tried to tell Matt didn't go over so well, because a few moments later, he heard Caroline running after him.

He stopped under a tree, trying to put some distance between them and other people. Caroline joined him there, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. "You were right," she admitted, her voice getting high and hysterical the way it did when things didn't go according to plan. "We should have told him. Now she's been to see him – in fact, he's probably got her _living_ with him – and he hates us even more than he already did. What are we going to do?"

Tyler sighed, fisting his hand in his hair. "I don't know."

Part of him was furious with Matt for the way he'd been acting, but he couldn't pretend like he didn't get where Matt was coming from. Finding out the people you trusted were lying to you, and about something as important as this, wasn't something you got over easy. He knew from experience. He'd also made some pretty bad judgment calls because of it, and he had a feeling Matt was headed down the same road.

"We can't let him deal with this on his own," Caroline fretted. "I mean… she could _eat_ him, Tyler!"

"So could you," he pointed out. Caroline's face fell, and he instantly felt like a tool. "Sorry."

"No, you're right," she murmured. "It's just… I'd like to think we could help Vicki, the way we're all helping Anna, but if Matt won't let us near her… what's she going to do? How's she going to learn to control herself? Matt loves her and all, but he doesn't really get what's going on, and he's also not listening to any of us." She sighed, slumping against the tree. "This is a disaster, Tyler."

He kind of thought she might be overreacting, and he was actually a little annoyed about it. So Matt's sister was a zombie, and he was being a dick about it. It bothered him to no end that despite everything the guy said and did, she still cared _this _much about him.

Still, that was part of the reason _he_ cared about _her _so much, and he knew it was hypocritical to complain about the way she was with Matt. If it had been anyone else, he admitted to himself, he might not be so frustrated. He couldn't help how he felt, though; he was jealous of Matt Donovan.

They stood quietly under the tree until Tyler got an idea. "Look, Matt usually works late," he announced. "Maybe we could tell Gilbert what's going on, and he could go over there and talk to Vicki. I don't think she'd hurt him."

"She might," Caroline retorted. "Her urges are probably all crazy right now."

"He could take Anna," Tyler suggested. "Anna could be all sympathetic, because she's experiencing the same stuff, and she could run interference if Vicki lost control."

Caroline nodded slowly. "Yeah… maybe that could work…"

He smiled, and then he frowned. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Huh?" Caroline replied. "Oh, my mom said she was doing security and that your mom still needed volunteers and she was trying so hard to be normal that I couldn't say no. What are _you_ doing here?"

Tyler shrugged. "Pretty much the same thing. So you and your mom are all right?"

She nodded, smiling. "Yep."

"I told you she'd get over it."

"Yeah. Yeah, you did."

He smiled at her, and she grinned back, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looking at the grass. "So, you're going to call Jeremy?"

Tyler sighed. "Yeah, I'll call Gilbert."

"Great." She gave his arm a playful nudge before heading off towards the tents. "See you later!"

"Later!" he called after her. He paused to watch her walk away, his eyes dropping lower than they should have, roving over her backside and her legs. Swallowing, he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He really had to stop looking at her like that.

Tyler stepped out from under the tree and returned to the tent he'd been grilling at before, knowing his mother would be pissed that he hadn't unloaded the food from the Grille like she'd asked.

It didn't matter. He couldn't be around Matt right now, and Matt couldn't be around him. That was just the facts, and he wasn't going to argue with them. Pushing the issue would only make it worse.

* * *

><p>Blood, blood, blood, all he saw was blood. It was all he could see; it was all he could smell. It was everywhere, and Stefan was enjoying it too much.<p>

The sweet coppery stench filled his nose, heavy in the air, and he could taste it on his tongue even when he wasn't actively drawing it into his mouth. The red stained his lips and his hands. Stefan didn't know his name, but the man lying on the bar in front of him tasted so good, he couldn't stop drinking from him.

He was undoubtedly dead by now. So was the female bartender, whose body Stefan had abandoned on the floor, by his feet. It was a dive bar that had smelled like cigarettes and body odor before Stefan and Klaus had started their feeding frenzy and the stench of blood had pervaded everything else. Ever since the failed attempt to create a hybrid the night before, Klaus had been in an insatiable rage, ripping and killing and drinking for hours on end. Stefan had fallen in right behind him, partly because Klaus had made it clear that he had to, and partly because once the smell of blood hit his nostrils, he hadn't been able to control himself.

He moved on from the bartender on the counter and stalked through the broken glass and turned over tables to the young blonde woman cowering in the corner by the jukebox. She looked up at him with fearful, watery eyes, and he sped over to her in a blur, stopping in front of her and tilting his head.

She screamed. He lunged, sinking his teeth into her neck and sucking her dry. The blood coursed down his throat and over his lips and dribbled down his chin. He could feel blood on his face and his neck and his chest, warm and sticky and soaking through his shirt. And the smell – _god_ the smell…

When she was limp and the blood stopped flowing, he dropped her unceremoniously on the ground. The veins were bulging out of his face and his eyes were black and dark red. He slowly turned around at the slow, ironic applause echoing through the bar.

Klaus leaned against the pool table on the other end of the room, clapping and smirking, his face stained red too. "Very impressive, Stefan."

He was panting heavily, trying not to rush out the door and feed on some other innocent passerby. "How much more?" he asked in a small, pathetic voice.

"I'm full," Klaus shrugged, inspecting the blood under his fingernails. "I'm bored."

Stefan stood silently in the center of the room, the blood singing in his veins and his pulse thumping harder than it should be, considering he no longer needed one. He watched Klaus carefully, his stomach full and bloated, but with a dull ache in his chest – an emptiness that begged to be filled. _More blood_…

Not an option. He didn't want to have these thoughts, and it was all he could do to stop himself crumbling to his knees and fisting his hands in his hair while he wailed in agony. He made himself stand straight and silent and stare at Klaus. The hybrid couldn't know what he was doing to him.

"You know what I've been wondering, Stefan?"

He shrugged. Klaus smirked wider. "I've been wondering where dear little Katerina has run off to. Aren't you?"

Stefan shrugged again. "Not particularly," he returned hoarsely.

"She hurt your feelings terribly, didn't she?" Klaus drawled. "Feeding on you… compelling you… turning you… making you fall in love with her, only to turn around and fake her own death… why, you must want her dead for real, I'd wager."

Stefan didn't trust himself to comment.

"_I_ want her dead," Klaus said, leaning towards him conspiratorially. "Eventually, of course."

They stood silently in the bar, staring at one another. Stefan's face was a blank mask, and Klaus was still wearing his terrifying smirk. Finally, the hybrid pushed himself off the pool table and turned his back on Stefan, sauntering towards the exit. "Let's go find Katerina, shall we?"

Stefan didn't say a word as he followed Klaus out the door. After all, it wasn't like he had a choice.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you want to do this?"<p>

Jeremy jerked out of his stupor at the sound of Anna's voice, sounding hesitant and concerned. He tore his eyes away from the front door of the Donovan residence, and flashed a smile at her.

"Yep, I'm sure."

She smiled back uncertainly, and he rather thought she didn't believe him. But he _was_ sure, as much as it freaked him out to be standing on the Donovans' porch, in the dark, staring at the front door and steeling himself to talk to Vicki.

The moment Tyler had called him and told him where Vicki was and what Matt had said, Jeremy knew it was only a matter of time before he found himself at her house, trying to talk to her. When Tyler had encouraged that plan of action, Jeremy had grabbed Anna and a few freezer bags from the garage, and then took off for the Donovan place.

He'd failed to knock on the door, but it didn't matter. Suddenly, the door flew open and he found himself staring at the first girl he'd ever loved, and the third person he'd ever lost.

Her brown eyes lit up. "Jeremy?"

Jeremy found a shaky smile for her. "Yeah, it's me. I heard you were here."

She vaulted over the threshold and threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him to the ground. A goofy grin crossed his face as he hugged her back – a grin that quickly faltered when he met Anna's troubled eyes over the top of Vicki's head.

Slowly, Jeremy disentangled himself from her fierce embrace. "Are you all right?" he asked her.

Vicki turned big sad eyes up at him and shook her head. "Jer, I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You're a zombie," Anna chirped. Jeremy sent her a dark look. "Well, she is, Jeremy. We had to tell her somehow."

"We don't actually know that, though," Jeremy pointed out. "We're just assuming…"

"We came back from the dead and we feast on human flesh," Anna rolled her eyes. "What else would we be?"

"Jer?" Vicki asked, and Jeremy snapped his head up to stare at her with wide, guilty eyes. She looked scared and confused, and her eyes kept flitting nervously over to Anna. "What's going on? What are you talking about? Who… who are _you_?"

He watched Vicki's eyes rove jealously over Anna's figure and suddenly he wasn't so sure bringing Anna to Vicki's house had been a good idea. "I'm Anna," she told Vicki. "I used to be a vampire. I used to date Jeremy. And then I died, and then I came back to life, and then I started eating human flesh. Pretty much your same back story."

Vicki still looked confused. "Can we come in?" Jeremy asked her.

She nodded mutely and took a step back from the door, letting them step over the threshold. Jeremy followed Vicki into the back of the house, Anna on his heels. When they reached the family room, Vicki took a hesitant seat on the edge of an armchair, looking ready to vault up again at a moment's notice. Jeremy sat down on the sofa and Anna sat beside him. He did his best to look relaxed. It wasn't working.

"So… zombies are real?" Vicki asked, staring wide-eyed at the carpet.

"As real as you and me," Anna quipped.

Jeremy raised an eyebrow at her. Anna sighed, lowering her eyes to the ground, and fell silent. Vicki looked up at both of them. "We're still working out what's going on with you and Anna," Jeremy told her. "But I thought we could help you, you know… with the urges?"

Vicki nodded. "Caroline's a vampire," she said.

That was neither here nor there, but Jeremy obliged her with a nod. "Yes she is."

"What's wrong with Ty?"

Her question resulted in an all too familiar, jealous clench of Jeremy's stomach. "He's a werewolf."

Vicki snorted. "Seriously?"

Jeremy nodded again. "Look, Vicki…"

"How did this even happen?" Vicki wanted to know. "I mean… how did you even meet this other vampire-zombie chick?"

Anna tilted her chin and looked down her nose at the other girl. "Actually, she tried to feed me to her mom," Jeremy said, smirking at Anna.

She rolled her eyes. "I said I was sorry."

"She tried to hurt you?" Vicki demanded.

"I hadn't gotten to know him yet," Anna defended herself. "His ancestor was responsible for locking my mother in a tomb. I wanted to get her out, and yeah, I also wanted revenge."

"Look, that's all in the past," Jeremy spoke up. "It didn't work, I was fine, and Anna and I worked it out and became friends."

"And then more than friends," Vicki added darkly, her voice accusing.

Jeremy immediately felt like a cheating boyfriend. "That's right," Anna shrugged. "It might interest you to know, however, that before we crossed that line he tried to manipulate me into turning him into a vampire so he could go looking for _you_."

Vicki brightened. Anna scowled. Jeremy felt like crap. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Vicki, I know you're having trouble controlling yourself."

"How did we come back?" Vicki wanted to know.

Jeremy was starting to get frustrated with the girl. She had so many questions and she wouldn't let him get a word in. This was supposed to be about helping Vicki control her hunger issues, not a catch-up session.

"Sheriff Forbes shot Jeremy," Anna volunteered. "His witchy girlfriend brought him back to life. We're not sure why, but apparently you and me are the consequences for messing with the balance of nature."

Jeremy winced. Vicki looked dangerous. "Girlfriend? You're dating a witch?"

"Um, you see Vicki…"

"Who is it? Who are you dating?"

Jeremy stared at her. Vicki stared back, and the look she was giving him was actually sort of scaring him. "Bonnie Bennett."

"_Bonnie_?" Vicki exclaimed. "My brother's friend? His ex-girlfriend's bestie? The quiet chick who could never get a date?"

"I'm guessing she can get a date now," Anna said dryly.

This whole damn meeting had gone to hell, and Jeremy kind of wanted to punch Tyler for even suggesting it. So what if the werewolf killed him; magic ring, right?

"I can't believe this," Vicki exclaimed, getting to her feet. "I've only been gone… what? A year, at most? And you've already dated _two_ other girls?"

Jeremy flinched under Vicki's angry eyes and hurt tone of voice. He opened his mouth to explain or apologize or… well, say anything, really… and then Anna spoke up, rolling her eyes. "How do you think I feel?"

Which made him feel ten times worse, and the worst part was that he couldn't even be upset. They had a point – he'd moved on too quickly. He could see that now. But what was there to be done about it, really? He'd loved Vicki, he'd fallen for Anna… he'd been falling for Bonnie.

Even if he hadn't been falling for Bonnie, he couldn't turn his back on her now, not after what she'd done for him. He couldn't turn away from Anna or Vicki, either. They deserved a chance, and he was the only one willing to give it to them.

He took a deep breath. "Vicki, Anna… I'm _so_ sorry. I don't want you to think I didn't care…"

"Whatever, Jer," Vicki cut him off. "I should have known. Boys are all the same."

"That's not really fair," Anna pointed out. "It stings, sure, but we were dead. He couldn't just pine over us forever."

"Who says he should pine over _you_?" Vicki snapped viciously. "I'm the one he loved first; I'm the one who died first. I win."

"There's no winning and there's no losing!" Jeremy exclaimed desperately. "Vicki, please. I just want to help you. Even if I am with Bonnie now, that doesn't mean I don't care about you…"

"Get out of my house, Jeremy Gilbert," Vicki interrupted, her dark eyes turning milky white. "I don't think I need your kind of help."

"Vicki," Jeremy breathed, shaking his head, trying to ignore the pain her dismissal was causing in his chest. "You can't keep attacking innocent people. Every time you kill someone, you make someone else just like you. Surely you don't want that."

"_Get out!_" Vicki shrieked.

He did, because in all honesty she was sort of terrifying, standing there and screaming at him with her eyes all white and angry. Jeremy headed for the door, feeling his chest muscles all twisting up and aching, blinking furiously at the sight of her – angry and hurt, a tear dribbling down her cheek from one white eye. Anna followed him silently, her head bowed.

They reached the door, and Jeremy turned to her one more time, feeling desperate again. "When you need me, I'll be waiting," he told her.

She slammed the door in his face.

Jeremy stumbled back a step from the front door, staring at it in shock. Tears were threatening to spill down his cheeks, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. Anna's cold little hand rested on his arm.

"She's just upset," she told him. "Eventually, she'll come around."

He nodded dumbly, still staring at the Donovans' front door.

* * *

><p>It was well after dark, and Caroline's mind was whirling as she scoured the schoolyard, wandering from tent to tent with a giant black garbage bag. She tossed paper plates and plastic cups inside, not really seeing where she was going. All she could think about was Matt and Vicki and the terrible things he'd said to her.<p>

She'd never liked Vicki when the girl was alive. Matt's older sister had been hard to like, period… always late, always high, always getting in trouble or sleeping with your boyfriend. That type of girl. She'd caused so much trouble for Matt.

Now, Caroline was sympathetic to her. She felt empathy for the other girl. First she was dead, and then she wasn't. She had urges she couldn't control or understand. She didn't even know what she was. Caroline had been there, not so long ago. She wanted to help.

But Vicki didn't want help. Vicki had wormed her way back into her brother's life, telling him lies about his friends. It didn't help that his friends had lied to him too. Who was he supposed to trust? Of course he didn't trust Caroline now.

Damn it, why did she keep making the same mistake?

Her only hope was that Vicki would listen to Jeremy. She didn't see why Vicki wouldn't – Jeremy had treated her better than any other guy in the girl's life (not counting Matt) and she'd loved him. Caroline thought she had loved him, anyway. If Jeremy could help Vicki find a new diet and a way to control her urges…

Sighing, she snatched up an empty plastic bottle and threw it into her garbage bag. She didn't know why she was obsessing so hard about Matt, all things considered. The guy had plotted to kill her with her mother. Granted, she'd forgiven her mom, but still… Matt hadn't even bothered to apologize. Then he'd dumped her. Now he was threatening to out her to the rest of the Founder's Council. She didn't really believe he would, but the threat itself was hurtful.

Her cell phone rang. Frustrated, she flung her trash bag onto the ground and fished the phone out of her pocket. It was Bonnie.

"Oh my god," she answered the phone. "Where are you? Are you back? What happened? Did Lucy help?"

"Slow down, Care," Bonnie said, sounding amused. "Too many questions, not enough breathing."

Caroline smiled in spite of herself. "Sorry. Is everything ok?"

"Sort of. We're back, we're all fine, and Lucy helped me talk to Emily."

There was something Bonnie wasn't telling her. "Was it bad news?" Caroline asked.

"Look, I'll tell you when you get here, ok? Come over to Elena's; bring Tyler if you want… we'll recap."

Caroline sighed. "Ok."

"Hey, do you know where Jeremy is? I asked Ric, but he gave me some lame, vague answer. I noticed Anna's not here either, so…"

"Oh," Caroline said, her voice faltering as she realized how upset Bonnie was going to be. "Jeremy's at Matt's."

"Matt's?"

"Vicki came to Matt, and… well, Jeremy wanted to help…"

Caroline trailed off. Bonnie wasn't saying anything, but she could picture an angry little pucker between her friend's eyebrows as Bonnie pursed her lips and chewed the inside of her mouth. "Bon?" she asked experimentally.

"I heard you. Matt's place, helping Vicki. We'll talk more later. Get here as soon as you can."

Bonnie hung up. Caroline cursed, shoving her cell back in her jeans. Just great.

She searched the yard for Tyler and found him scraping grease off one of the grills. Checking for observers and finding none, Caroline put on a burst of superhuman speed and reached Tyler's side in seconds. "Hey," she greeted him.

He jumped, dropping the tool in his hand. "What the fuck, Caroline?"

She scrunched up her nose. "Sorry."

Tyler shook his head, recovering his grease scraper. "No, it's ok. What's up?"

"Bonnie and Elena are back."

He snorted. "Great. So what then? Another family meeting at the Gilbert place?"

His sarcasm stung a little. Caroline blinked. "You don't have to come," she said in a small voice.

Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Caroline, you know I'm going to come."

She smiled slightly. "Now?"

"You mean shirk my duties as grill scraper?" Tyler retorted. "Yes, please."

Caroline rolled her eyes and took his arm, tugging him along. She heard a clatter behind her as Tyler dropped the scraping tool for the second time. She dragged him towards her Focus, laughing at his good-natured complaining as he followed along behind her.

When they'd gotten into the car and she'd started the engine, Tyler asked, "Did they say anything about what happened?"

Caroline sighed and shook her head. "Nope, which makes me think it was bad news."

Tyler shrugged. "Not like things could get that much worse, honestly."

He had a point there. Caroline nodded, her eyes on the road. "Hey, I'm sure everything's fine," he said suddenly. "Bonnie probably just has a lot to tell us, and didn't want to do it over the phone."

She didn't believe him for a moment, but the attempt was enough to make her smile. "Yeah, you might be right."

He smiled back, and the two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence. She hadn't planned on seeing him today, but she was glad she had. It was a little strange to run into him at the Booster Club picnic of all things, but she wasn't going to argue with good results.

It was happening a lot lately – the two of them getting thrown together. If she hadn't been preoccupied with so many other things, she might have thought the universe was trying to tell her something.

But she _was_ preoccupied, and so she didn't think about the universe and what it might be trying to tell her. She simply decided having Tyler around again was awesome, and she was glad he was sticking with her. She didn't let herself dwell on the lingering looks he gave her, or the way his hand burned wherever he touched her, or the hollow, hungry feeling she got whenever she looked into his eyes just a little too long.

She wasn't dwelling on that at all.


	10. Communication Breakdown

On the Origin of Species

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I am not associated with anything _Vampire Diaries_, and I make no profit off this fan fiction. Also, I stole the title from Charles Darwin. Don't sue, please… I've got nothing but some pocket change and a car that won't start. ;)

AN: Big thank yous to SusanXG, txgirl0302, AllCreator, puppyluv1031, bianca08, rjt040190, Reader28, ladii love, QueenOfTheEyesores, HanAce88, JYLlian, David Fishwick, FrenchCouture, SakuraJade, and Laloonie for all the lovely reviews! An especially big thank you is in order for SakuraJade, who gave each chapter a very long, in-depth, and thoughtful review, one right after the other. I appreciate it so much - made me so happy! You rock!

I apologize for the lack of updates over the past several weeks. I'd resolved to finish another fan-fiction project before updating any of my other stories, and the project took longer than I thought it would. Thanks to all of you for your reviews and your patience! Also, sorry there's so little Tyler and Caroline in this one. Tried to force it; hated the results; decided less was more.

On another note, this fic has officially entered AU territory! Seriously, forget all of what happened in season 3 thus far. The rules of this fic no longer even _resemble_ the rules of TVD. The only things I _may_ steal from canon are the _names_ of the Original vampires that haven't been introduced yet… but don't expect the fic versions of them to resemble their TV counterparts too much. The back story of the vampires (and werewolves!) is going to be _much_ different.

* * *

><p>Chapter 9: Communication Breakdown<p>

Caroline frowned at the book she was holding. It was written in a foreign language and she couldn't make any sense out of it. Crinkling her nose, she turned to the boy sitting next to her on the couch and showed him the page. "By any chance, do you speak Italian?"

Tyler groaned and dropped his book on the floor. Caroline winced. The book was old and motley, and didn't need the extra abuse. Also, it was probably expensive. "I'm going to die in this library," he grumbled.

"Sorry," she murmured, looking back down at her book and studying the words again. Nope, no luck – she still couldn't read Italian.

She'd been sitting with Tyler in the Salvatore boarding house, perusing Damon and Stefan's library since earlier that morning. After Bonnie had come back from Alabama the night before and passed along Emily's information, their little gang had been hard at work looking up original werewolves and the draug. So far, they had a tremendous pile of nothing.

"Watch the books," Alaric reprimanded from the table on the other end of the room. He was sitting with Bonnie and Jeremy. Anna was in the library too, curled up in the window seat and studying a book of her own.

Damon and Elena were also at the house, but they'd disappeared somewhere other than the library – leaving the rest of them to do all the work. Caroline sighed and tossed the book aside. "I'll make Damon translate it later," she muttered.

"I can read Italian," Anna spoke up. Caroline blinked at her in shock. "What? Live for five hundred years, and you might learn something too."

Caroline smirked. "Well, then, have at it." She tossed the book at Anna, who caught it one-handed, without even looking up from the book in her lap. Then Caroline bent over and picked up Tyler's forgotten book, skimming through the first few pages. The werewolf was leaning back on the couch beside her, his hands over his face. "Hey, it's not time for a study break yet," she scolded him.

He lowered his hands and glared at her. Caroline rolled her eyes. "Your attention span is, like, nonexistent," she said.

Tyler shrugged and grabbed a different book, leaving Caroline with his molting reject. "Duh."

She kind of wanted to smack him. So she did.

"Hey!"

"I think I found something," Bonnie announced, ending what had promised to be a good session of childish bickering. "In one of the Martin Grimoires."

"Wolves or draugs?" Jeremy asked.

"Draugar," Bonnie corrected. "The plural is draugar."

"Whatever," Tyler retorted. "Just read us what it says."

Bonnie glared at Tyler over the top of her Grimoire, and then proceeded to do as asked. "It says the draugar were once people who rose from the dead."

Alaric snorted. "Yeah, I think we know that much."

"They're supposed to be supernaturally strong and fast, and they feed on human flesh…"

"Also already knew that."

Bonnie sighed in annoyance and glared at Alaric. "Our theory that a single bite is all it takes to create more draugar is correct," she went on. "Draugar are created when a draug feeds on a living person. It doesn't say anything about resurrection spells, though."

"Does it say anything else?" Caroline asked.

"They're immune to almost all mortal weapons," Bonnie murmured, frowning at the book. "A draug can only be killed by fire or decapitation."

"Well, great," Anna muttered. "Glad we know how to kill me."

"So, let me get this straight," Alaric said. "Draugar feed on the living, turn the living into draugar, and can only be killed by fire and decapitation?"

Bonnie nodded.

"So they're basically zombies," Alaric concluded. "Awesome. That wasn't a waste of time at all."

"Hey, we learned a few things," Jeremy spoke up. "I mean, not every zombie – draug, whatever – is going to be like Anna, so knowing how to stop them is probably a good thing."

Alaric snorted. Bonnie sighed, laying her open book down on the table. "Well, maybe we're more well-versed in the legend of the draugar, but we still know next to nothing about Tyler's little problem," she pointed out.

Caroline looked over at Tyler, who was glaring at the book in his hands. She watched his grip get too tight, curling the hardcover in on itself. "I wouldn't call Sybil _just_ Tyler's problem," Jeremy returned lightly. "Seeing as she's been screwing with all of us."

"Yeah," Alaric added, sounding annoyed. "She freaking killed me."

"She tried to kill me too," Caroline spoke up.

"She was sniffing around Elena," Jeremy added.

"I get it; she's bad news," Tyler growled.

"Yes, she is," Alaric muttered.

Caroline stared at the side of Tyler's face, noting the crease of his brow and the tightness of his jaw. He looked super pissed. Smiling gently at him, she put her hand on his arm. "What Sybil's been doing isn't your fault, you know."

"I didn't say it was," Tyler snapped. Caroline recoiled at his tone, jerking her hand back. Tyler glanced at her, and sighed harshly. "Sorry."

She shook her head, fixing her eyes on a spot on the carpet. "It's fine."

It wasn't fine, actually, but she wasn't going to yell at him right now. He looked too anxious and angry, and shouting at him wouldn't do any good, especially since the person he was really angry at was himself.

"I don't get it," Anna said suddenly.

Everyone turned to stare at her. She was frowning at the wooden panel of the window seat directly in front of her, still holding her book. "Emily said Klaus was coming back to Mystic Falls, right?"

Bonnie frowned at the other girl. "Yeah."

Anna shrugged, the pucker between her eyebrows deepening. "Why would he come back here? He broke the curse, he got a hold of Stefan… there's nothing left for him here. Is there?"

Caroline frowned at Anna, her mouth opening and then closing again. What _was_ left for him here? "Katherine got away," she said thoughtfully. "I know he was real big on the punishing her, so… maybe he'll come here looking for her?"

"I don't think so," Anna replied, shaking her head. "Katherine got what she wanted. She had no reason to stick around."

"Sure she does," Alaric drawled. "There are _so_ many people for her to fuck with here. Why would she ever want to leave?"

"Katherine is all about Katherine," Anna said. "She threw my mother and all our friends to the Council so she could fake her own death. Now that she's free of Klaus, the last thing she's going to do is stick around in the first place he'd look for her."

"Unless it's the last place he'd look for her," Bonnie mused. Everyone turned and stared at her this time. "Think about it; Klaus probably expects her to run off to Rio or Paris or Timbuktu. He'd never think to look in Mystic Falls."

Caroline frowned again. "So you guys think she's still here?"

"No way," Anna insisted. "Look, maybe Klaus wouldn't think to look for Katherine here, but eventually people would start noticing that some girl who looks _exactly_ like Elena Gilbert is running around Mystic Falls. This isn't exactly a big town. And once word got out, how long do you think it would take to get back to Klaus? If you guys think he isn't keeping tabs on this place, you're crazy."

"Anna's probably right," Jeremy spoke up. "Katherine's probably not here. I mean, even if she wasn't worried about Klaus, she'd probably be worried about Sybil, right?"

"Then why would Klaus come back here?" Bonnie asked, and Caroline could hear ice in her tone. She crinkled her nose and glanced back at Anna. Things were getting seriously awkward all of a sudden.

"Maybe he's angry that Elena didn't die?" Anna suggested. "Maybe he has other uses for doppelgangers? Maybe he wants a powerful witch on his side?"

Bonnie glared daggers at Jeremy's ex-girlfriend, straightening her spine. "I would never work with Klaus."

"I wasn't saying you would," Anna rolled her eyes. "I just don't see why that would stop him from snatching you. From what I understand, he's pretty big on the snatching."

"Do you think that's a real possibility?" Jeremy asked in concern. "Would Klaus come back here for Bonnie?"

"Oh my god, we are not letting that happen," Caroline announced, sitting up straight on the couch. "If he comes anywhere near you, Bonnie, I'll… I'll…"

All right, she didn't really know what she would do if Klaus came after Bonnie. He was an all powerful hybrid after all, and she was a baby vampire. They weren't exactly evenly matched. Still, the thought of Klaus getting his hands on Bonnie…

"Well, I'll be really mad!" she finished lamely.

Bonnie smiled at her. "Thanks, Caroline."

"Maybe he'd come back for Sybil," Tyler spoke up.

Everyone stared at him. Tyler shrugged defensively. "Well, she wants to kill him, doesn't she? And let's face it – she might be one of the few people on the planet who actually stands a chance against him. Maybe he'll want to kill her first."

"What are you suggesting?" Bonnie demanded. "You want to team up with Sybil? Because she's the only one with the juice to take Klaus on? You think Emily told me Klaus would come back here because she wanted me to work with her?"

Caroline winced at her friend's accusing tone. Bonnie was her best friend, but she was being unnecessarily harsh, and it was kind of making her mad. Tyler would _never_ suggest that – he hated Sybil being in town, and he wanted her gone.

Tyler glowered at the witch. "That's not what I'm saying at all."

"It better not be," Bonnie retorted.

"Bonnie," Caroline said softly. Her friend looked up, and Caroline shook her head admonishingly at her. Bonnie sighed harshly, but took the hint.

"Sorry," she apologized to Tyler. "I'm… worried, I guess. I didn't mean…"

"Don't worry about it," Tyler cut her off, burying his nose in his research. He had an all too familiar look on his face – a combination of anger, hurt, and restlessness – and it made Caroline take her bottom lip too tightly between her teeth. It was that look he would get right before he bailed – whether it was to storm off and cool down, or just leave town entirely.

She took a deep breath, and tried to focus on her book. Tyler was not leaving town again… Tyler was _not_ leaving town again… he'd _promised_, after all…

"I need blood," she announced. "Be right back – got to raid Damon's stash."

She jumped up from the couch and practically ran from the library. No one even grunted at her as she left. Rolling her eyes at her friends, she made her way into the Salvatore cellar. She _did_ need blood, but her hunger wasn't the real reason she was leaving. The Salvatore library had just gotten way too smothering. Between the not-so-subtle face-offs by undermining in which Anna and Bonnie were determined to engage, and the hostility between Tyler and her friends – seriously, she could understand why he felt like they were blaming him for Sybil's interest in their little group. She thought they might be blaming him too.

It was ridiculous. This was not his fault. Sybil had not come to town for Tyler… she'd only shown up at Alaric's apartment because she'd caught Klaus's scent… and, all right, maybe that scene in front of the Grille had been all about Tyler, but he'd _stopped_ the evil were-bitch. It hadn't been anything like that night all those months ago, when he'd…

Caroline had reached the cellar now, and she shook all the thoughts out of her head. She did not want to go there, she did not want to relive that, she did not want to think about it at all because all it did was make her second-guess her friendship with Tyler.

The cold, damp air felt good on her bare arms as she tip-toed through the winding cellar corridor and back to Damon's secret cooler. She flipped the lid open and took out a bag, sinking her teeth into it and draining the blood. When she was finished, she tossed the bag in the garbage and headed back upstairs.

When she returned to the library, Anna was still sitting on the window seat, and Alaric, Bonnie, and Jeremy were still at the table, but Tyler had vacated his spot on the couch. "Where's Tyler?" she asked.

Jeremy shrugged. "He said he needed some air."

Caroline sighed and marched back out of the library.

She found him behind the boarding house, lurking in the shadows of the nearby trees and nursing a flask that had his father's initials engraved on it. "Having the jittery feelings?" she asked.

He shrugged, not looking at all surprised to see her there. "I guess."

Caroline came to a stop in front of him. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I just… there's no room in there. It stinks like vampires."

She raised an eyebrow at him. Tyler rolled his eyes. "Not you. Damon."

The way he spat the other vampire's name nearly made her flinch. Caroline took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, staring at the dirt. Tyler held out the flask, and she took it without hesitation, taking a sip of the high end whiskey.

"I know you don't like Damon," she started.

Tyler snorted. "He killed my uncle."

"Yeah," Caroline whispered. "I guess that's kind of a deal breaker."

Silence. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't always like him either," she offered.

Another snort. "What did he do to you?"

She was _not_ going to tell him that. "Nothing, really… he's just, you know… Damon."

More silence followed her brilliant statement. They stood under the tree behind the boarding house, staring at ground. "I'm sorry," he said suddenly.

She frowned. "For what?"

"Everything," he replied. "This stuff with the wolves and Klaus…"

"Hey," she interrupted. "What's going on with the wolves is _not_ your fault. You don't have to apologize."

"She tried to kill you, Caroline," he snapped.

"Which was still not your fault."

"She only did it because I told her to leave me alone. If I'd…"

"If you'd what?" Caroline retorted. "Joined her pack like she'd asked you to? Tyler, that wouldn't have solved anything."

"She would have told me things," he pointed out. "Like why she was here and what she knew about Klaus… she wouldn't have had a reason to go after you. I could've found out what she was after, and then told you guys about it."

"That's a terrible idea," Caroline snorted. "She'd have found out you were double-crossing her and then she would have killed you."

He glared at his shoes and took another sip from the flask. Caroline sighed. "Tyler, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Bonnie…"

"Don't listen to Bonnie," Caroline rolled her eyes. "She didn't mean what she said. She's just lashing out because Anna's trying to steal Jeremy back."

Tyler frowned at her. "What?" Caroline asked. "Isn't it obvious?"

He sighed and shook his head. She tilted her head, studying him. This wasn't supposed to be so hard. They'd all known Tyler since they were young, but still he felt like an outsider – not that Caroline could blame him. Everyone was treating him like an outsider – everyone except herself and Jeremy.

Before she could say anything else, the doors off the back swung open and Elena poked her head out. "Caroline! Tyler! You need to come see this!" she called. Then she ducked back inside.

Caroline sighed, frowning at the house. She looked over at Tyler again, and he shrugged, shoving his flask back in his pocket and then walking towards the boarding house. Caroline followed him, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. They climbed the steps to the back patio and headed back inside.

When they walked in, everyone was huddled around the TV. Caroline blinked at the big-screen monstrosity that had magically revealed itself from behind the closed doors of a large armoire. She hadn't even known it was there. There was a commercial for a cell phone plan playing on the screen, which hardly seemed like something she needed to see. Damon, holding the remote in his hand, glanced up briefly at their entrance. He said nothing to Tyler – only raised an eyebrow, and turned back to the TV. Tyler responded pretty much the same way.

Caroline sighed again. Elena was standing near Damon, an iron grip on Bonnie's arm. Jeremy was leaning on the couch, and Anna was lurking in the back of the room, staring at the TV. Alaric had flopped down on the sofa and made himself comfortable – but if the Scotch in his hand was anything to judge by, he wasn't the least bit relaxed.

The commercial ended, and CNN took over the screen.

"_It's the biggest massacre in the history of the city,_" the news reporter said. Images of a building with broken windows and a missing front door flashed across the scene, and Caroline frowned, wondering why they were watching a news story about some tragedy in some dusty, abandoned old bar in Arizona.

"_Nineteen people were found dead in the tavern yesterday evening. The attackers seem to have slit their throats, as indicated by their injuries and blood loss. Local authorities are stumped as to what sort of weapon was used, as the victims' throats were torn and mangled to a degree…_"

Damon hit the mute button and tossed the remote at the coffee table. "It has to be Klaus, right?" Elena asked in a shaky voice. "If their throats were… if they can't figure out… the weapon…"

She breathed harshly, staring at the carpet. "How can we be sure?" Jeremy said gently, addressing his sister. "This happened all the way out in Arizona, and we have no idea who or what might be out there. Even if it was vampires…"

"It was Klaus all right," Damon interrupted in a low, dangerous voice.

Jeremy shook his head. "But _how_…"

"It was Klaus," Damon repeated, his fist clenching on the back of the sofa. "It was Klaus, and Stefan."

There was a brief silence as everyone stared at him in shock. "No, Damon," Elena shook her head. "Stefan would _never_…"

"Sell himself into service for a crazy, bloodthirsty werepire?" Damon interrupted scathingly. "News flash, Elena – _he already did_."

"To save you," Elena insisted. "He left with Klaus to save you."

Damon snorted. "And then what? Klaus put him to work as a cage dancer? An underdressed pool boy? Come off it, Elena – you don't give yourself over to Klaus and then _not_ kill a few hundred people."

"Nineteen," Elena corrected him hollowly.

"So far," Damon smirked.

"You're wrong," Caroline spoke up, tossing her hair. "You're just… you're wrong. Elena's right – what happened to those people? Stefan would never do that."

"Oh, please, Caroline."

"He wouldn't," Caroline retorted, balling her hands into fists, determined to defend the other vampire. "Not Stefan. He hates killing people. He couldn't…"

"You're deluding yourself, Barbie," Damon spat. "And you, of all people, should know better. Every vampire is capable of that, and if Stefan's fallen off the wagon and started drinking the human stuff again, he's capable of much worse."

"God," Bonnie whispered, her hand over her mouth as she stared at the television. "All those people…"

"We have to get him away from Klaus," Elena announced in determination.

Damon snorted, but the fierce look in his eyes made Caroline think he agreed whole-heartedly. "He's just trying to survive," Caroline whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

"By killing other people?" Bonnie asked coldly.

"If Klaus had you on a leash, you'd kill people to stay alive too!" Caroline retorted.

Bonnie lowered her eyes to the carpet and said nothing. All around the room, people started talking about getting Stefan back from Klaus and detoxing him before he hurt anymore people... Elena suggested a trip out to Arizona, at which Damon openly laughed.

"We still don't know for sure," Caroline spoke up stubbornly. "How do we know if Klaus is out there? He could _be_ anywhere. That bar…"

"If you think I can't recognize Stefan's handiwork after a century and a half of _stalking_ him, you are sorely mistaken," Damon grit out behind clenched teeth. "Now, if you don't have anything _useful_ to contribute, _stop talking_!"

She took a step back, blinking her suddenly stinging eyes. Damon turned his back on her, rejoining the great Save Stefan debate. Elena was insisting on going to Arizona, Bonnie was arguing that Stefan would be long gone by the time they got there, and Damon started yelling that Elena wasn't going anywhere Klaus might be.

Caroline channeled all her vampire speed and raced from the room. The furniture blurred past her, and finally she found herself in Stefan's bedroom. The room smelled more like Elena than Stefan, but she didn't care. Caroline sank onto the bed and buried her face in her hands.

She wasn't crying – yet. She took deep, steadying breaths, trying to calm herself down. The denial was fading fast because of course Damon was right. Klaus wouldn't have taken Stefan unless he thought Stefan could be useful. If Stefan wasn't feeding on humans, then he wasn't useful, was he?

There was a lump in her throat, and she started blinking back tears. Stefan _couldn't_ be responsible for something so horrible. If Stefan could do something like that, then where did that leave Caroline? He was older, he was infinitely more patient, and lot more interested in the welfare of others… he was the _good_ vampire, and if he could go so terribly bad, then did she really have any hope at all?

"You know, you shouldn't listen to Damon," Tyler's voice echoed throughout the room. "He's a serious dick."

She didn't look up at him. The last thing she needed was for Tyler to see her in tears – again. "I know," she murmured into her hands.

Silence. Caroline took a shaky breath. She felt the bed dip as Tyler sat down beside her. "Look, the guy made his choice," Tyler said.

He didn't even sound sympathetic. Caroline looked up at him, her eyes darkening. "He was trying to save Damon," she snapped.

"Yeah, because I bit him," Tyler retorted irritably. "I get that."

She shook her head, turning her eyes on the carpet. "You need to stop being so defensive," she told him. "No one blames you."

"Damon does."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Damon just wants to be mad at somebody. He can't be mad at Stefan because Stefan's not here, so he's taking it out on the rest of us."

Tyler didn't say anything to that, just fixed his eyes determinedly on the floor. Caroline sighed, gripping the edge of the mattress in her fists. Her world felt like it had been tilted on its axis, and all of a sudden she saw everything through a very unflattering slant. Sometimes it was easy to forget she wasn't human – she got to walk in the sun and go to high school and organize a zillion different events and activities. She could overlook the fact that she had to disappear into the forest everyday and hunt down some innocent woodland critter for dinner.

She'd never really thought about what it would be like to flip the switch Damon was always going on about and lose herself in a haze of bloodlust. It had never actually occurred to her to try it. She liked being almost human, and flipping the switch… anyway, she wasn't really sure how to flip the switch. Was it something you had to be taught, or could she do it all on her own? What if she could flip the switch without even knowing? That was a scary thought.

If Stefan could do it, then she could too, she realized. What would it take for her to go there?

"You look freaked out," Tyler observed.

Caroline looked up at him in surprise. She'd forgotten all about him. "I'm fine. Just thinking."

He nodded slowly. She sighed and shrugged. "I don't know," she went on. "I guess… I guess I'm worried. Stefan's off eating people and…"

She trailed off, the dryness catching in her throat. Swallowing, she shook her head and tried to start over. Somehow, she couldn't fully articulate what she was feeling.

"You're not going to do that," Tyler told her, and it floored her, how well he was able to figure her out. When the hell had he gotten so freaking observant? Had he always been this way?

"But I could," she insisted. "Damon's right. We're all capable of it. I just got so used to Stefan being the good one, you know? He was always so… and now he's… and I can't quite wrap my head around it."

His warm hand was on her arm, and ironically it gave her goose bumps. "You're still not going to do that," he argued.

"How would you know?"

Tyler shrugged, opening his mouth and closing it again. Caroline shook her head, still glaring at the floor and trying really hard not to let the sudden influx of tears in her eyes roll down her cheeks.

She was really sick of crying, and she really didn't know how to make herself stop. If it wasn't her mom, it was Matt, and if it wasn't Matt, it was Stefan, and if it wasn't Stefan…

"I just know you," Tyler was saying now. She blinked and looked at him again. "I just know you wouldn't do that. You're just… you're Caroline."

"I'm Caroline?" she snorted. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know," he grumbled. "I just… it means you're better than Stefan and Damon and you're not going to go all homicidal, all right?"

He sucked at this so much, Caroline decided. It was almost cute how badly he sucked at it. Tyler was obviously trying to be comforting, but for some reason he couldn't quite pull it together. Usually – and this was the really weird part – he was actually pretty good at making her feel better.

Not that he wasn't making her feel better. He was, even though he obviously wasn't saying what he wanted to say. She smiled slightly at his pouty expression and the way he was still glaring at the carpet. "Thank you," she said softly.

He shrugged and didn't look at her. Caroline threaded her fingers together in her lap, staring at the carpet. "I wonder what Stefan's thinking," she said, half to herself. "This has to be torturing him."

Tyler snorted. "I'd be a little less worried about how Stefan feels and a lot more worried about all the people he's killing."

She swallowed hard, her eyes stinging again. He had a point. Sometimes being around Elena and the Salvatores had this weird effect on her – on all of them – like they all forgot how to see the big picture and look beyond their little group. But it was true; whether Klaus was forcing Stefan to kill or not, Stefan was still killing – and he had to have known, the moment he agreed to leave with Klaus, that killing was going to be required of him.

The thought left her feeling even more mixed-up than she had before. As though he could read her thoughts, Tyler pulled out his father's flask again and handed it to her. Caroline stared at his hand for a moment, and then slowly took the flask. She unscrewed the cap and took a huge gulp of the alcohol, and then she passed it back to Tyler. He took a long drink too.

"Zombies," Caroline said suddenly.

Tyler screwed up his face incredulously, looking at her like she was nuts.

"Well, it's an issue," she pointed out. "They're kind of terrorizing the town. My mom found two more bodies this week."

"If you wanted to change the subject, you could have brought up sports, or school, or anything other than the walking dead, you know."

Caroline shrugged, smiling too brightly. "Thoughts on how to stop the zombie apocalypse?"

Tyler sighed. "The fun never stops, does it?"

* * *

><p>It was dark by the time Matt got home from work. He had school in the morning, and the Grille had been unusually busy that day. His feet ached and his eyelids were heavy.<p>

When he pushed open the back door and stepped into the kitchen, he found Vicki asleep on the sofa in the adjoining den. It was an oddly familiar sight, and he stopped short in the doorway, staring at his sister.

She started awake and sat up straight, her eyes going white as she looked all around her. Matt flinched, taking a step back. "Matty?" she asked drowsily, her eyes finally landing on him.

"Hey, Vick," he greeted her.

Vicki smiled at him, and got up off the couch. "How was work?" she asked.

It was weird, Matt decided, to have her asking him questions like that. He wasn't against it – when she'd been human, he'd hoped for interaction like this between him and his older sister.

"Work," he shrugged in response. He tossed his coat at a nearby chair and headed for the fridge. Vicki followed him into the kitchen and watched him take out the ingredients for a sandwich.

"You're working longer hours than you used to," she observed.

"Yeah, well, you died and Mom left and someone had to pay the bills," he retorted harshly.

She froze by the kitchen table, blinking rapidly. Matt took one look at her face and sighed, dropping the food in his hands on the kitchen counter. "I'm sorry," he backtracked. "I didn't mean…"

Vicki shrugged, staring at the floor. "It's fine, really. I mean… you didn't say anything that wasn't true."

He stared at her, speechless, trying desperately to make it right. "I just… it's not your fault, you know. That you…"

Matt trailed off, not knowing where to go with that. "That I died?" Vicki supplied.

He had nothing to say to that. "Let's talk about something else," she suggested.

Relieved, Matt went about fixing his sandwich. "Do you want one?" he asked.

The inquiry was met by a long, awkward silence. Matt glanced over his shoulder and found her chewing her lip awkwardly, staring at the bottom kitchen cabinets. "Right," he murmured. "You don't…"

"I could," Vicki cut him off, a little too brightly. Matt lifted his eyebrows at her hopeful expression.

"All right, cool," he said, albeit uncertainly. He turned back around and began making two sandwiches.

There was a long silence. Matt heard the creak of a kitchen stool as Vicki sat down at their small table. Finally, he finished making their meal and then took it to the table, sitting down across from her. Hungry, he began wolfing down his sandwich with a little too much enthusiasm. Vicki took a bite and cringed, tried to cover her reaction, and then nibbled a little bit more of the crust.

"You don't like it," he said.

"I didn't say that, Matt. Really, it's good."

Really, she was lying. Matt tried to let it go, but his stomach was turning now and he was losing his appetite. He put the remainder of his sandwich down. "It's not what you need," he murmured. "It's not the same as…"

"Really, it's fine. Quit worrying."

He sighed, his breath too harsh. Vicki flinched. "How can I not worry?" he retorted. "My sister is a flesh eating zombie!"

There was a long silence. Vicki picked at her sandwich, and Matt could swear he saw tears forming in her eyes. It was a like a sucker punch to the gut. He felt sick. "I'm sorry," he said hollowly.

She shook her head.

They sat there silently again. Matt stared at her, and Vicki studied the tabletop. "How are you… getting by?" he asked.

Vicki flinched again.

"Are you… are you eating… people?"

"No," she insisted, turning big, determined eyes at him. "Not since… not since I came home."

"That was three days ago."

Vicki lowered her eyes again.

"You're probably getting hungry again," Matt pointed out.

"I'll figure something out."

"Vicki, I can't...! You have to…what's there to figure out? Seriously, answer me that! What the hell are we going to do?"

She jumped to her feet so quickly he couldn't follow her movements. The sandwich flew across the kitchen and bounced off the cabinets. "You think I wouldn't like an answer to that? You think I'm not just as freaked out and angry and upset as you are?"

Her loud, angry shout echoed through the tiny house. Matt gawked at her. His sister's eyes were turning white again, and her face was contorted with fury. Slowly, taking huge breaths, she seemed to calm down. She screwed her eyes shut and then backed into the wall behind the table.

His mind was racing. He honestly didn't know how to help his sister. She couldn't go running around town eating their neighbors, but he couldn't sit by and let her starve. Hopelessly, he stared at the chair she had been sitting in, listening to her harsh, shallow breathing from the other side of the room.

Matt got to his feet and pulled out his car keys. "Come on," he said.

Vicki opened her eyes and frowned at him."What?"

"Come on," he repeated himself. "We're going to the hospital."

"But…"

"The morgue," he clarified. "Maybe you can… I mean… does that sound…?"

He didn't know how to put into words what he was thinking. It didn't seem to matter. Vicki understood. "Yeah," she said. "That's… that's a good idea, Matty."

He nodded and walked outside. She followed him silently. It wasn't until they were sitting in his truck and he was driving down the road, away from their house, that Vicki spoke again.

"Thank you."

Matt smiled slightly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Vicki smiled back.

"What are little brothers for?" he replied.

The rest of the ride to the hospital was still silent, but it was comfortable instead of tense. He didn't know how Vicki got into the morgue, or what she did in there. Matt didn't want to know. He definitely didn't want to watch.

He just sat out in the nearest waiting room, and took her home when she was done.

* * *

><p>Damon couldn't remember last night.<p>

It was a haze – a montage of bits and pieces, none of which made any sense. He could see the images from the TV – he could hear the news anchor explaining all the details of the Arizona massacre. He knew without a doubt it had been Stefan. Too many times he had seen his brother's handiwork. Never before had he reacted by drinking.

It was happening far too often, this drunken blackout followed by intense hangover thing. As a vampire over the age of one hundred and sixty, he really should be far too advanced a drinker to still be experiencing this crap. Also, this was a particularly bad Monday morning to be hungover because he was expected at a Founder's Council meeting. Not that Carol Lockwood would object to him missing this one. According to Sheriff Forbes, the mayor was trying to turn the council against both Liz and Damon. He couldn't really be bothered to care – killer hybrid that kidnapped his baby brother, anyone? – but everyone kept insisting that he keep up his council contacts. Elena, Alaric, Bonnie… everyone seemed to think that he needed to keep up appearances and stay on the founding families' good side.

Because rich, over-privileged, out of shape morons wielding badly carved tree branches were his biggest concern at the moment. Right. Sure. Whatever.

His head was pounding relentlessly and the bright sunlight burned his eyes. Groaning, Damon wheeled his old blue Camaro into the Lockwood driveway and parked it behind some big shot's Mercedes. Then he crawled out the car, trying to shield his eyes with a pair of sunglasses, and sauntered towards the front entrance.

The members of the council were all lounging around the study, helping themselves to the coffee that the mayor had provided. Damon took a steaming cup and laced it with the contents of his flask. Then he headed for the dark paneled wall nearest to the exit and took up some leaning space.

"Well, you look like hell."

He swung his head in the direction of Sheriff Forbes' voice. The tiny blonde woman was standing on his left, wearing a disapproving frown. Damon smirked at her. "Well, _hello_ Liz. And how are you this morning?"

"Annoyed," she retorted. "I honestly can't believe you have the nerve to show your face here."

"I know, right?" he retorted sarcastically. "Trust me – not my idea. If I had it my way, I'd be _anywhere_ else."

"You smell like cheap liquor."

"I beg your pardon? My liquor is not cheap."

Liz narrowed her eyes at him. Damon rolled his, and then took a long swig from his coffee cup. "Enough with your judgment, Liz. It's way too early in the morning, and I am way too hungover."

She shook her head and scowled at the other council members. They were all lounging about, some standing, some sitting on the plush green couches before the late Richard Lockwood's desk. On the other side of the office, conversing with Carol Lockwood, there stood a young, floppy-haired idiot that Damon could proudly say he'd never seen before. Nobody was paying any attention to him _or_ the Sheriff.

"Why are you even here?" Liz asked.

He shrugged. "People to manipulate, vampire hunters to… relocate. You know, the _uush_."

There was a long silence. Liz looked truly upset, and Damon found himself struggling with some odd urge to comfort her. It was all too familiar to the time Caroline had been in the hospital and Liz had been completely torn apart about it. Of course, Liz wasn't torn up; she was irritated and angry and probably itching to put a stake through his heart. Still, she was upset, and he was reacting.

"Look, we were friends," he said. "That was good, right? The being friends bit? I mean yeah, I lied… your feelings got hurt… but really, who's to say we can't be friends again? I'm up for it."

She glared at him, and if Damon was being honest, he'd have to admit her anger probably had something to do with his nonchalant, totally insincere tone of voice. "We were never friends," she reminded him. "You made a fool out of me. You lied and manipulated me, and killed good people in this town. You're lucky I even tolerate you at the moment. We will not be friends now, or in the future. Step one foot out of line…"

"I get it; I'm on probation," he interrupted roughly. "Step one foot out of line and you'll kill me. Why the hell does everyone keep saying that to me?"

Liz looked ready to tell him _exactly_ why – not that he didn't already know the answer – but she was interrupted by the mayor loudly clearing her throat and clinking her spoon against her coffee mug.

"I think we all know why we're here today," Carol Lockwood announced. "As we all know, we've recently turned up quite a few dead bodies, and the police department has received several missing person cases. Isn't that right, Liz?"

Carol's voice instantly turned cold and snippy as she leveled Liz with a small, icy, insincere smile. Damon actually felt bad for the sheriff as all eyes turned her way, most of them looking every bit as cold and judgmental as Carol.

"That's right," Liz nodded.

"And let's not forget all those dead bodies that have vanished from the morgues lately," Carol pressed, her ton still icy and her eyes still judge-y.

Liz nodded again, and Damon could see the strain along her jaw. "Also a problem," she agreed.

Lots of unintelligible murmuring broke out amongst the council members. Quite a few were giving Liz the side-eye. The sheriff shifted uncomfortably on the wall, and Carol's lips twitched into a triumphant little smirk. Damon contemplated sticking up for Liz, but ultimately didn't bother. Instead he listened to his instinct, which was telling him to distance himself from Liz's train-wreck track record – immediately.

"The bodies being recovered are full of bite marks," the floppy-haired idiot announced, stepping up beside Carol. "Clearly the work of vampires. And since the bodies keep vanishing, I'm willing to bet that the vampires we're dealing with have been turning their victims too."

Guess again, idiot. They were dealing with draugar – zombies – whatever. Not vampires. Also, get a haircut.

"I think maybe we're on the wrong track here," Damon spoke up. It was going to be a stretch, convincing these people that they were hunting zombies, but if he could steer the heat away from vampires even a little, then he had done his job for the day.

"Oh, really?" Floppy-haired Idiot retorted, his voice dripping with irony.

"_Really_," Damon sneered, twice as ironic. Two could play that game. "Vampires traditionally drink their victims' blood. Some vampires are messier than others – they do more damage than necessary, blah, blah whatever. But these bodies are different."

"Is that your _professional_ opinion?" the idiot asked snootily, suddenly sounding just like Carol.

"As opposed to whom else's professional opinion?" Damon retorted. "Yours? As a professional what, exactly… surfer? Starving artist? Hippie grad student?"

Everyone was staring at him like he'd grown another head. Damon winced. Usually, he was much calmer and politer at these meetings – the epitome of charm. Today he'd forgotten himself, and slipped into his usual role of sarcastic antagonist. He really needed to stop drinking so much.

"That reminds me," Carol interrupted coolly. "I've yet to introduce the two of you. Damon, this is Greg Fell – our resident vampire hunter. I just recently hired him to help us with our little vampire problem. Greg, this is Damon Salvatore. He's Zach's nephew."

Damon gawked at the pair of them. Carol was smirking in that triumphant way of hers again, looking quite pleased with herself. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Liz smirking too, all too happy about his current humiliation. Damon didn't know what pissed him off more – the fact that Carol Lockwood and the 'resident vampire slayer' had just shown him up, or the fact that he was now being introduced as 'Zach's nephew.' Who the hell even remembered Zach anyway?

"So you see, Mr. Salvatore," Greg practically simpered. "My professional opinion would be as a…"

"Yeah," Damon interrupted. "Got it, thanks. Still don't think we're dealing with vampires. The flesh on those dead bodies wasn't just torn and bitten – it was _eaten_. Whole body parts were missing. If you ask me, we've got a very different kind of monster on our hands."

"Really?" Greg asked dryly, raising an eyebrow. "Do tell."

Everyone in the room looked like they were on the verge of tittering – that's right, tittering. Because the Mystic Falls Founder's Council doesn't laugh. Damon scowled at the group, filled with a sudden urge to rip all of them into tiny shreds.

"Zombies," he grinned, even though he knew no one was going to get on board with this. "I'm pretty sure we're dealing with zombies."

Greg snorted. "Zombies aren't real."

"I have to disagree," Damon replied. "If vampires are real, why couldn't zombies be real? It makes a whole lot more sense than the vampire theory right now."

"No, not really," Greg retorted. "Has anyone here ever seen a zombie? Does anyone here know anything about zombies? Vampires are real – we have proof of that. But zombies? That's a stretch, Damon."

Damon scowled again. Liz cleared her throat. "To be honest, I have to agree with Damon," she spoke up.

He gawked at her.

"Really?" Carol retorted, raising her eyebrow. "And why is that, Liz?"

"Nothing about these recent attacks fits typical vampire hunting patterns," Liz replied. "I'm sorry, Carol. I wouldn't go so far as to say zombies are behind it all, but… I really don't think we're dealing with vampires."

"I have an idea," Greg spoke up. "To really test some of these theories out. We need to get most of the town in one place, really check out what's going on with everyone."

Damon sneered at the vampire hunter. "What?"

"Vampires tend to gravitate towards large gatherings," Greg went on. "Hunting grounds, if you will. I imagine the same would hold true for, uh… zombies?"

The stupid little bastard was smirking at him again, and Damon had to resist the urge to wring his neck. Similar smirks had appeared on the faces of the other council members. Carol Lockwood had done an excellent job turning everyone against both him and the Sheriff.

"So you want to use the town as bait?" Liz asked angrily, narrowing her eyes at the hunter.

"Exactly," Greg replied. "Isn't there some kind of high school thing coming up? End of the year type dance?"

"Prom," Carol frowned. "The senior prom is already over, but the juniors usually have their own prom as well, and it's not for another week."

"Sounds great," Greg said. "I say we move the festivities over here, to the Lockwood mansion. You've got plenty of room, Carol, and I think we'd have a better shot at setting up a strong perimeter in the mansion than somewhere else."

"Hold on just one second," Liz snapped. "Now you want to use teenagers – _our children_ – as bait?"

"Everyone will be perfectly safe, I assure you," Greg returned smoothly. "Carol?"

"I don't know," the mayor hedged, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. The woman glanced at Liz, catching her lower lip between her teeth. "I just… I wouldn't want any of the children getting hurt."

"Not a problem," Greg assured. "I promise you, everyone will be perfectly safe."

"Well, I think we all know _that's_ crap," Damon spoke up, rolling his eyes.

Greg smirked at him. "I've been doing this a long time," he said.

"Bet I've been doing it longer."

Damon's sidebar was ignored. Greg pressed on. "I know exactly how to use this event to our advantage, and keep the kids safe at the same time. Seriously, it's time this council took some proactive action. People are dying all over town."

The rest of the council looked convinced by this argument, and Damon watched Carol – still looking uneasy – reluctantly agree with Greg's stupid plan. "All right," she murmured. "We could talk it over…"

"Great!" Greg grinned. "How about you, me, and the sheriff talk security? The meeting itself seems about ready to adjourn."

It was like Carol didn't really know what to do, Damon decided. On the one hand, the woman didn't want to risk the lives of teenagers, and she didn't like having this guy swoop in and take over _her_ council meeting. On the other hand, she wanted results that Liz and Damon weren't giving her, and she was willing to try anything this Greg idiot came up with.

She adjourned the meeting, and joined Greg at her husband's desk to 'talk security.' Liz shot Damon a concerned, almost apologetic look, and then joined them. Damon glared at their little huddle before throwing back the rest of his spiked coffee and then joining the other council members as they filtered out of the mansion.

He had definitely lost his foothold on the council. Alaric had been right – he _did_ need to go to this meeting. Damon groaned, running a hand over his hair as he marched across the Lockwood's manicured front lawn, headed for his car. He'd put his sunglasses back on, as his pounding hangover headache had made a reappearance and the sun was still shining brightly down on the curving driveway.

With another groan, Damon flopped down in the front seat of his Camaro and glared at the bumper of the car parked ahead of him. It was suddenly very tempting to leave this shithole town and never look back. What the hell was he even doing here, anyway? He didn't need Mystic Falls and the resident Scooby gang to find his brother – he could do that all on his own.

Maybe.

Damon followed the long line of expensive cars down the Lockwood driveway and out onto the road. He didn't head home. Instead, he drove straight to the nearest bar.

* * *

><p>The final bell rang, and Tyler immediately ducked out of his classroom. He made his way down the crowded hall as inconspicuously as possible, but the other students still shot him sideways glances. They'd been doing it ever since he'd come back – not that Tyler could blame them. He'd straight up vanished from Mystic Falls, rolled back into town a month later, and refused to talk about where he'd been. It was like painting a target on his back.<p>

At this point, Tyler was just counting down the days until summer vacation. School had been a struggle lately, and not just due to the stares and the gossip. He had a lot of work to make up from the time he'd missed, and spending all his afterschool hours with Caroline and company, trying to 'save Stefan' and 'defeat Klaus' and 'avert the zombie apocalypse' was not helping him study.

It was getting to be too much, and so he was glad the school year would end in two weeks. Fortunately, he'd manage to escape summer school – mostly due to his mother being mayor. Not that it mattered much. Cut out the papers and exams, and Tyler would still be running around town after dark, chopping the heads off of zombies or something equally ridiculous. He might have been a werewolf, but he never signed up to play superhero. He was getting tired of it.

When he reached the end of the hall, he found Caroline just around the corner, navigating her way through the afterschool crowd and tacking up posters on the walls. Frowning, Tyler came up behind her, but failed to startle the vampire.

"Do these look too much like they were done by kids?" Caroline asked the moment he got close. "I don't think they look very professional. Everything needs to be perfect."

Tyler barely glanced at the poster. "Looks fine to me."

Caroline growled in frustration. "Fine isn't going to cut it!"

"It looks amazing," he corrected himself, before doing a double-take at the print on the bottom of the poster. "Junior prom, this Saturday, at _the Lockwood mansion_?"

"You sound surprised," Caroline murmured distractedly, still scrutinizing her poster.

"Probably because I am."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Seriously, Tyler, I swear to God you never have any idea what's going on in your own house!"

He couldn't deny the accusation. He rarely had any idea what his mother was planning until the last minute. It wasn't his fault – everything was always getting changed around on him. Besides, the less he knew about his mother's plans, the less likely she was to rope him into helping.

Caroline was moving on down the hallway now, and Tyler followed her, watching her tack more posters to the wall. "So… when did you join the dance committee?"

"This morning," she shrugged. "I need to get back into the swing of things, you know?"

He hadn't been aware that Caroline had ever taken herself _out_ of the swing of things, but he kept his mouth shut. She sighed, tilting her head and studying the poster. "These suck, but I don't have time to do them over again," she announced. "Who are you taking to the dance?"

She'd changed the subject so fast, he could swear he had whiplash. "Uh… wasn't planning on attending it, actually…"

"What?" Caroline exclaimed. "But it's at _your_ house!"

"Right," he returned. "But I didn't know that until just now, did I?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Whatever, Tyler. You have to go now, though, so who are you going to take?"

"You know, I think I'll just go to the Grille and shoot some pool that night."

"Don't be stupid; you're going. We are _all_ going. I am not letting us sink into a depression over all the doom and gloom in our lives recently. We are going to act like normal teenagers and do normal teenage things, and we are going to have _fun_."

The menacing tone of her voice promised anything _but_ fun. Tyler held his tongue. "Did you run that plan by the rest of your friends?"

"_Our_ friends."

She was really pushing this whole group/togetherness thing. Tyler gritted his teeth, and took a deep breath through his nose. "Right. Our friends."

"I haven't had a chance yet. But we are _all_ going – you, me, Elena, Bonnie, Jeremy…" She trailed off, eyeing the poster sadly. "I mean, obviously Stefan won't be there, and Matt… well, he probably doesn't want to talk to us still, so… yeah. And Damon, of course, is _not_ invited. Oh! I'm going to make Ric chaperone."

She grinned brightly, as though making Alaric one of the chaperones was the best idea she'd ever had. Tyler couldn't help but smile back. "I think we should go together," she was saying now. "I mean… the guy I was _going_ to go with officially hates my guts, and I know _you_ don't have a date – unless, of course, you want to take one of the girls I overheard gossiping about you in the bathroom. Seriously, the theories about your sudden disappearance are boundless – and apparently, make you totally desirable. Personally, I don't see it."

Even with the smirk she shot his way, that last zinger stung. He forced a smile back at her and raised an eyebrow. "Girls are gossiping about me in the bathroom, huh?"

"Yep. It's gross."

"Totally. So… you didn't happen to get any of their names…"

She hit him in the arm and he winced, choking back a chuckle. "Shut up! You are so taking me to this dance. We'll just go as a couple of friends, having a good time. It'll be the perfect end to the school year from hell."

He sighed, raising his eyebrow at her again. Caroline stared back at him expectantly, and he found himself caving. "All right. We'll go together. But we can just meet there, right? I mean, it _is_ at my house, and it would be kind of a pain to have to drive over to your place…"

"Tyler!"

"I'm kidding, Caroline."

She smiled, apparently appeased. Tyler had an urge to start banging his head against the wall, because what the hell had he gotten himself into now? Sighing, he glanced at the date on the poster and frowned again.

"That's a week before the full moon."

Caroline made an odd face at his announcement, sucking in her upper lip and crinkling her nose. "Yeah, I know," she murmured. "I've been thinking about that, actually, and I think we need to start pimping out the cellar this week."

"Pimping out the cellar?"

"Well, yeah! You almost got out of there the first time, and the gate _barely _held last time… we need new chains, new bolts, and new gates. Pretty much new everything."

"We?"

"Um, duh. Who else were you planning on doing this with… your mom?"

Tyler stared at her. Caroline stared back, trying to smile at him. "Tyler?" she asked.

He didn't really want her help, but at the same time he really, _really_ did. It was impossible to make sense of the two conflicting feelings fighting for control in his head. Before he could say anything in reply to her puzzled face and the way she'd asked his name, a voice sounded out from behind him.

"Junior prom at the Lockwood mansion, huh? Geez, you kids are lucky. Back in my day, the dance was held in the gym."

Tyler whirled around at the voice and found a strange man standing behind him, grinning the way a sexual predator might grin at a couple of teenagers. He was maybe five years older than them, and his dark hair was floppy, hanging in his eyes. He reminded Tyler of Duke – the dick ex-jock who threw awesome keg parties whenever he was home from college. Frowning, he took a small step back. "Do we know you?" Caroline asked, her tone suspicious as she stepped forward defensively, effectively making Tyler feel like a wimp.

"Greg Fell," the man grinned, holding out his hand. Caroline looked down at it in disdain, and didn't shake it. Greg recovered quickly, seeming not to notice the snub. "You're Tyler, right? I was just talking to your mom earlier today. She really wanted to host this dance for some reason. Woman's real big on charity."

Tyler recognized the name immediately, remembering him from the council meeting his mother had held at the house. "I used to know your uncle," Greg pressed. "He graduated high school a couple years ahead of me, with my older brother Logan. You remember Logan."

"Not really," Tyler returned, but the look on Caroline's face made Tyler think she definitely did remember Logan. This time, Tyler took the defensive step forward, his arm brushing against Caroline's side. He remembered more than just Greg's name – he remembered exactly why he'd come back to town, and why he had rejoined the council. This was his mother's free lance vampire slayer.

Greg shrugged, as though Tyler's nonchalance didn't bother him in the slightest. "Oh, well, you were pretty young. You know my brother worked for the local news station, right? Until he disappeared?"

Caroline pressed herself against his side, which sent Tyler on high alert. "I've been talking to your mom about him, but she hasn't been real forthcoming about the investigation," he went on, this time zeroing in on Caroline. "You _are_ Sheriff Forbes' daughter, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. That's me."

"Well, I just stopped by to talk to the school principal," Greg finished, as though his behavior was perfectly normal. "I'll probably see you kids at the dance. Your mother asked me to chaperone."

This was directed at Tyler. He nodded, trying to smile politely and knowing he had failed. "See you around," Greg said, and then he sauntered off down the hallway.

Tyler watched Greg leave, shaking his head. "That was weird," he announced. "He is a seriously creepy guy."

"Mm-hmm," Caroline mumbled, staring down the hall as though she wasn't really seeing it.

"Hey," he frowned, touching her arm. "Are you all right?"

She jumped slightly. "Sure," she said, giving him a big smile. "I just… would have thought the Council had told him about his brother."

Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Told him what?"

"Logan was a vampire."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I think Damon… or Stefan… one of them killed him. My mom wasn't too detail specific. She only ever told me because…"

Caroline trailed off and swallowed. Tyler frowned at her. "Because why?"

"It doesn't matter. Let's go hang up more posters, ok?"

He wished she wouldn't do that. After the whole mess with his uncle and Jules and Brady and the sacrifice… well, he'd hoped after he came back and she'd forgiven him that they would be beyond secrets. But Caroline didn't seem beyond secrets yet. To him, it always seemed like she was hiding something. He wanted to call her on it, but it never seemed like the right moment.

"Yeah, ok," he agreed. She headed on down the hall, and he followed, taking a big stack of posters she handed off to him. Part of him was tempted to pitch them when she wasn't looking and head home. He didn't do it, though. Instead, he followed her stupidly around the hallway, taking up posters where he was told.

He still felt like she was lying to him – or not lying, exactly, but omitting something. But Caroline's sudden caginess wasn't the only thing bothering him. Greg Fell had no reason to harass two high school students on his way to see the principal, no matter who their mothers were. Tyler didn't have any evidence to support his sudden suspicion, but he was a werewolf, Caroline was a vampire, and this guy hunted things like them for a living.

Just maybe, Greg Fell was on to them.

* * *

><p>Stefan stood in the cool evening air, watching the sun set behind the Rocky Mountains, streaking the fluffy white clouds with pink and gold. His hands were tucked into his coat pockets and he was frowning, trying to ignore the rumbling in his stomach.<p>

They were in Montana, in some tiny cattle town on the edge of the mountains. Stefan didn't have the faintest idea what they were doing there. All he knew was that he was starving, and not even one of the beef cattle grazing in the field behind him was going to be satisfying enough.

"Why so broody, Stefan?"

Klaus's wry, British drawl sounded in Stefan's ear. Stefan's lip twitched ever so slightly, trying to fight itself into a grimace. He glanced at Klaus out of the corner of his eye. The ancient vampire/werewolf was standing in the field beside him, looking all too happy to be out in the middle of nowhere.

"What are we doing here?" Stefan asked. "Katherine might be on the run and all, but this is the last place she'd hide out."

"I agree," Klaus returned easily. "This tiny mountain town isn't Katerina's style at all. Fortunately, we're not here to look for her."

Stefan gawked at the other man. "Excuse me?"

"What?" Klaus asked innocently. "Whatever made you think we were here for Katerina?"

Stefan scoffed, widening his eyes incredulously at the hybrid. "You did. The last thing you said to me before we left Arizona was that we were going to find Katherine."

"Ah, yes, that's right," Klaus conceded with an infuriating little smirk. "I did say that. Not to worry, Stefan – it's on my to-do list."

He couldn't stop the irritated sigh that fell from his lips. "Great," Stefan retorted. "So what are we doing here?"

"Mary is so very good at finding things," Klaus replied. Stefan clenched his fists inside his coat pockets, getting more frustrated by the moment. "Tell Stefan what you found, Mary."

Stefan turned at that, finding the tiny, redheaded witch standing behind them. Her lips were pursed and she was glaring at the two men. "Oh, Mistress Mary, quit all that frowning," Klaus quipped. "You'll make those crow's feet ten times worse."

The witch refused to say a word. Klaus sighed theatrically and turned back to Stefan, clapping the younger vampire on the shoulder. "This little town happens to house an entire pack of werewolves."

He swallowed at Klaus's announcement. "I intend to grab one of those werewolves," Klaus went on. "For a little experiment of mine."

"You're making a hybrid," Stefan said dully.

Klaus frowned at that. "You ruined my big reveal, Stefan. I find I'm mildly put out."

Stefan shrugged and said nothing.

"Dear lord, you're no fun at all," Klaus huffed. "Anyway, yes. I have begun to wonder if my blood will have a different effect on the werewolves now that the curse is broken. Mary thinks it's possible, don't you Mary?"

Mary said nothing. Stefan surveyed her out of the corner of his eye. She glared at him in a way that sent a chill down his spine.

"I've chosen to take her silence as a positive sign," Klaus said, using a mocking stage-whisper. Mary didn't react.

"What if it doesn't work?" Stefan asked.

Klaus shrugged. "Then it's onto plan C."

Stefan almost asked what plan C was, but decided he didn't really want to know. "Why do you think breaking the curse will affect your blood?" he asked.

"It already has," Klaus returned. "I didn't used to be able to heal a wolf bite. Now I can."

Stefan frowned at that. "But why…?"

"Too many questions," Klaus interrupted, marching away across the field. Neither Stefan nor Mary moved. "I have a werewolf to find. You two… find some way to amuse yourselves."

He stared after Klaus, still confused and rather surprised by his abrupt exit. Stefan never expected full disclosure from the hybrid, but it didn't make Klaus's reluctance to talk any less annoying. Stefan watched Klaus get smaller and smaller as he crossed the pasture. Then he turned and looked at Mary.

The witch was glaring at him again, and again Stefan shivered. There was something about the mostly silent, definitely angry witch that gave him the creeps. She always looked seconds away from killing him – and even though he knew she wouldn't, knew she couldn't, it still set him on edge.

"So…" Stefan murmured. "Breaking the curse made it possible for Klaus to heal a wolf bite?"

She nodded once, not saying a word. Stefan frowned, looking down at his boots and then back up at the middle-aged woman. "Why?" he asked.

Mary just shrugged. Stefan didn't buy the shrug for a moment – she knew more than she was saying. "You don't like me much, do you?" he observed.

She raised her eyebrow at him. Her expression conveyed 'duh' just as well as if she had said it.

"Why won't you talk to me?" he wanted to know.

"Why should I?" she retorted.

There was a long silence.

"I'm not like him," Stefan told her.

She snorted. "I've watched you eat. You're more like him than you think."

"He makes me do those things."

"You choose to do those things. His influence plays only a small part."

"You think I like being this way?" Stefan snapped. "I'm only here because…"

"I know," she interrupted coldly. "Because of your brother. Klaus cured his wolf bite, and in return you agreed to play his puppet. Why should that garner sympathy from me?"

Stefan blinked. "I'm not asking for sympathy."

"Understanding, then. Well, I don't understand. You had to have known what he would make you do."

He threw himself forward, snatching the witch by her jacket. His eyes turned red and his fangs popped out. "Don't you dare take the moral high ground with me," he snarled. "You're helping him just as much as I am – more!"

A sudden blinding pain erupted behind his eyes. Stefan cried out in agony, releasing the witch's coat and collapsing to his knees. He clutched his head, groaning. Then, as suddenly as the pain had started, it was gone.

Panting, he glared up at the witch. Mary curled her lip in disgust. He could see her veins twitching under her pale skin; he could smell the stench of blood as it pumped through her arteries. He wanted to take a bite from her neck and drain her dry, but he stayed down on his knees, kneeling in the cold, damp grass.

"I may be under his thumb for now," she said. "But once I find a way to break his hold on me, I will try and kill him. That is more than I can say for you. And while he controls me at the moment, I don't owe _you_ anything. You don't control me – I don't answer to you. You're a pathetic, sniveling _blood junkie_, and if you ever make a move on me again, I'll give you a stroke."

With that, Mary turned her back on him and marched away. He was tempted to call after her, because the more time he spent with her the more he was certain she knew the answers to all the questions he had. Stefan was positive she knew the answer to Klaus's hybrid problem; he was positive she had ideas on how to kill Klaus; he was even certain she knew _why_ Klaus had decided he wanted Stefan to be his newest right hand man.

But Mary wasn't going to talk to him. And that left Stefan to find the answers for himself.

* * *

><p>Bonnie sighed harshly as she stepped out of the driver's seat of her Prius and slammed the car door. Her cell phone was pressed against her ear, and she struggled to keep her hold on the phone while also carrying her messenger bag. She was late coming home from school, as usual, and now she was arguing with her boyfriend, <em>over the phone<em>.

"Bonnie, we've been over this," Jeremy's voice was saying in her ear. Bonnie grimaced, stumbling her way up the driveway. "If we don't at least try to help them…"

"You aren't listening to me, Jer," she interrupted him, annoyed. "How many times do I have to repeat what Emily said?"

"Screw Emily!" Jeremy retorted, sounding every bit as annoyed as Bonnie felt. "So she says they could be bad. Whatever. It's still Vicki and Anna, Bon, and I'm not going to turn my back on them."

"Vicki said she didn't want your help," Bonnie pointed out.

"She'll change her mind. Or Matt will come around. But Anna…"

"Yeah, I know, Anna needs you," Bonnie grumbled. "Jeremy, this is getting ridiculous. They're _zombies_."

"Draugar."

"Same thing."

It was Jeremy's turn to sigh harshly into the phone. Bonnie winced at the sound. "Look, we're not getting anywhere right now," he said. "And this isn't the sort of conversation we should be having on the phone. I'll talk to you later, all right?"

"Fine," she replied tightly.

He hung up on her. Bonnie snapped her cell shut and thrust it angrily into her bag before throwing open the door to her house. Shaking her head in annoyance, she stomped into the kitchen and slammed her stuff down on the table.

Ever since she'd come back from Alabama, she'd done nothing but have the exact same fight with Jeremy over and over again. Emily had said, point blank, that Anna and Vicki were _bad_. They were _bad _consequences. They were the _bad_ that she had to take with the _good_. But no matter how many times she repeated Emily's words to Jeremy, it didn't seem to make a difference. He was determined that Anna and Vicki could be helped – that they didn't have to be _bad_. He just wasn't listening to her. It was infuriating, but at the same time it was seriously scary. One of them could _bite_ him, and then she'd lose him all over again. Why didn't he understand how dangerous they were?

Still furious, Bonnie stomped out of the kitchen and headed for the stairs. She was done sharing him with his ex-girlfriends. Bonnie had to find a way to get rid of them. They were _zombies_ after all, and they had created more zombies like themselves that were now running around Mystic Falls and leaving behind a trail of bodies. Something had to be done.

"Hello, Bonnie," her father's deep voice sounded from the living room. Bonnie stopped short outside the doorway, and then peeked her head in. Her father was sitting on the sofa, reading the newspaper.

"Daddy?" she asked.

He lifted his head and grinned at her. Bonnie smiled wide and rushed into the living room, throwing her arms around his shoulders. "When did you get back?" she asked excitedly.

"This morning," he replied. "How was your weekend without me?"

"Sad," Bonnie returned smoothly.

He chuckled. "I'll bet."

Her father was in good shape for his age – tall and muscular, and with only the merest hint of a spare tire around his waist. His curly black hair was cropped close to his head and turning gray at the corners. He kissed the top of her head, and his scratchy beard tickled her skin.

"Last trip for a while?" she asked hopefully.

The look on her father's face promised the opposite. "Sorry, sweetie. Got another one next weekend too."

She sighed, disappointed. It was times like these that she really missed Grams. Not only had the woman always been there while her father had constantly been out of town, but she could have talked to Sheila Bennett about all of this witchy crap that was hovering over her life. Joseph Bennett didn't want to hear it – he didn't believe in witchcraft, and she was willing to bet he wouldn't believe in vampires either.

"I have to get started on my homework," she announced, getting up off the couch.

"All right, sweet-pea. I'm making dinner in a couple hours. "

"Sounds good," she replied brightly. Then she turned away and headed up the stairs with a hollow feeling in her stomach. There was so much her father didn't know about, and it was starting to weigh very heavily on Bonnie's shoulders.

She'd just reached her bedroom when she heard a sudden, very loud _thump!_ Bonnie froze, whirling around to stare back towards the stairs. "Dad?" she called.

There was no answer. Bonnie swallowed hard, and began creeping back down the upstairs hall. She tiptoed down the stairs, the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck standing up straight. She was ready – the moment she saw anyone or anything that wasn't supposed to be in her house, Bonnie was going to magic the crap out of it.

Her feet hit the foyer floor, and she crept back towards the living room. "Dad?" she asked again. She was again met with silence.

Suddenly, Bonnie was thrown backwards into the wall, a small but strong hand wrapped tightly around her throat. Choking, she squinted into the inhumanly gold eyes of the petite, dark-haired woman that was crushing her windpipe. To the woman's right was a tall, blonde girl, watching the pair of them with her arms folded across her chest.

Bonnie narrowed her eyes and concentrated. Suddenly, the blonde girl cried out in pain, clutching her head. Bonnie kept the spell up, and the blonde fell to her knees, moaning in pain as she pulled at her curly hair. The woman squeezing Bonnie by the throat didn't even flinch. She simply hauled Bonnie off the wall and then smashed her back into it, breaking Bonnie's focus.

The spell ended, but the blonde didn't get up off her knees. She massaged her head, glaring up at Bonnie from the floor. Bonnie felt the pressure on her throat increase. "Nice trick. Works very well on the puppies," the woman drawled in a foreign accent, pronouncing each w like a v. "But not so great on me. You want to bring down something like me… well you'll have to do _much_ better than that."

Bonnie glared at the woman from where she was pinned to the wall. "Whatever you want," she rasped. "I won't give it to you."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I know who you are," Bonnie told her, tilting her chin. Speaking was painful, but she motored on through. "You're Sybil."

Sybil huffed in annoyance. "My, but that Lockwood puppy has a big mouth."

Bonnie glared. Sybil glared back, and then lifted one eyebrow. "To be honest? I never expected him to know you."

"Small town," Bonnie retorted.

"Definitely," Sybil agreed with a dainty shudder. Then she frowned, studying Bonnie like she was a specimen in a lab. "You're not as powerful as I thought you would be," she announced. Her tone was positively pouty.

"Sorry to disappoint," Bonnie spat.

Sybil shrugged. "I need you to find something for me," she said conversationally.

"Not a chance in Hell."

A slow grin spread across the she-wolf's face, and it sent a chill down Bonnie's spine. "I think my chances are much better than that," she returned, before turning her head towards the kitchen, calling, "Oh, Marcus!"

Bonnie turned slightly to see a tall young man with shaggy blonde hair appear in the doorway to the kitchen. "Marcus," Sybil drawled. "Show the young witch what we have for her today."

She stared at the man in the kitchen door. He stared back, and Bonnie could swear his large brown eyes were almost _apologetic_. She frowned, and then the man stepped into the living room, dragging a body behind him.

It was her father. Blood dribbled down from his temple, and he was limp in the man's arms. Bonnie gasped in horror, her eyes going wide at the sight of her father's unconscious body. "_No_!" she cried out, struggling against Sybil's chokehold. "No, no, no! Not… you _bitch_. I will kill all of you!"

"Well, when you figure out how," Sybil shrugged again, still holding Bonnie by the throat as she inspected the nails on her free hand. "In the meantime, you will run a locator spell for me. If you don't, I will kill your Papa. Deal?"

Bonnie's eyes were stinging with tears. She stared at the wolf woman in repulsion, shaking her head as the tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. "Let him go, _please_. He has nothing to do with _any_ of this."

"He does now," Sybil returned carelessly. "And I _will_ let him go. The moment you perform my little spell, your Papa goes free. Yes or no?"

She stared at Sybil, still shaking her head. The tears were falling fast now. Sybil huffed again, obviously annoyed. "Quit blubbering already and answer the question."

Bonnie looked at her father's limp body and swallowed, her throat pulsing against Sybil's tight grip. She met Sybil in the eyes and nodded once.

"All right," she whispered. "I'll do it."


End file.
